Just Another Night at Freddy's: Night Six: What Came Before
by DeltaV
Summary: Pizza Baron is no more, Trout's behind bars. Everything is back to normal. But when a scandalous article brings up another location, Mike and the animatronics discover what came before Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. Contains FNaF 2, but AU in terms of fitting it. Rated T for "when you're older" language. PG-13. Warnings now placed before gore.
1. Prologue

Prologue: The First Location

**April, 1980, 2 Years Before the Opening of Freddy Fazbear's Pizza**

"Have the guests left?" manager Daniel Stone asked the man in front of him.

"Yes sir, Mr. Stone, we're ready for the decommissioning," the man, Phillip Wong, replied.

"Good. Make sure the half-completed animatronics in Parts &amp; Service get shipped back to corporate. God, I can't believe this happened. I thought the criminal database matching worked!" Stone blurted, frustrated.

Phillip winced at the outburst, and shrugged.

"That system was incredibly experimental, we're lucky to have even gotten our hands on it in the first place. It's not our fault he got through," Phillip explained, "Besides, every update required a hard-dock to work, and facial recognition software is just barely used outside military experiments."

The two men were seated in Kid's Cove, the most secluded part of the restaurant. It was also, ironically, one of the closest rooms to the entrance, and one of the few rooms that shut itself off from the restaurant by a door. Its intention was to serve as an isolated area for really young children and their parents, away from the madness that was the rest of the building. It even had its own animatronic, although it hardly looked that way now.

Its suit was gone, aside from its head (its actual one, anyway), having been reduced to a mangled heap of metal. That's what most of the staff called it: the Mangle. The door to the restaurant was flung open, and a man in a suit stormed into Kid's Cove.

"One month! That's it, one goddamn _month_!" he roared, pounding the table with a fist, "This is going to ruin us!"

Stone sighed.

"Well, the point of this place was to see if it would even work. Reviews were positive, but we never could have suspected a serial killer. It's just… bad luck. I mean, come on, what are the chances of this ever happening again?" Stone reasoned.

The man in the suit stared at him like he was crazy.

"Bad luck? _Bad luck?_ This is a disaster! You know what they'll say about Animatronics Limited now? 'Oh look, that's the company that let a bunch of kids die!' How can we recover from that?" the man said.

"Mr. Thatch, corporate's been talking about rebranding, losing the stigma of the place. We're taking those unfinished robots from Parts &amp; Service and moving to an entirely new building, across town, starting over. We're going to quiet all of the controversy as best we can, and try and focus on the future," Phillip explained.

"Well if that's the case, I don't want any part of it. I'm done, this has been the final straw. Let Fazbach take over, I quit," Mr. Thatch said finitely, and stormed out of the building. Daniel scratched his cheek.

"Was that his official resignation?" he asked Phillip. Phillip shrugged.

"Close as we can get. I'll ring Mr. Fazbach, tell him about his new promotion," Phillip said.

"Call Fitzgerald when you're done, tell him he's got the day shift tomorrow, and get a new guy for the last night," Stone ordered, "I have to go give a statement to the police."

Phillip nodded.

"Sure thing, boss. What about the other robots?" he asked. Stone shrugged.

"I dunno. Whatever corporate wants to do with 'em. Probably scrap 'em or something," Stone replied, and walked out of Kid's Cove.

Phillip sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, getting up and heading for the manager's office. He picked up the phone and dialed Fitzgerald's supervisor, the chief of security, who kept in touch with all of their guards. It rang twice before it was answered.

"_Hello? Hello?" _the supervisor asked.

"It's Phillip, I'm at the restaurant," Phillip replied.

"_Oh! Okay, uh, how can I help?_"

"I need you to get in touch with Fitzgerald, tell him he's on the day shift. And get that one guy, what was his name? Frank?" Phillip struggled with names. Hell, he wasn't even confident he knew the name of the guy he had on the phone.

"_You, um, mean Fritz, right?_" the supervisor offered.

"Yeah, right, Fritz"

"_Okay, uh, no problem. I'll probably take over if he can't make it. Not that he won't, uh, I'm sure he will, I'm not implying anything,_" the supervisor stammered.

"Right, right, I'll talk to you later about your job at the new place," Phillip said.

"_Great, I'm, uh, looking forward to it. Catch you on the flip side,_" the supervisor said.

"Uh-huh, see you later," Phillip said, and hung up.

* * *

**Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, 6 Days Post Pizza Baron**

With the Kitchen completely fixed and Pirate's Cove back to normal, Mike and the animatronics were starting to get… bored. It had been nearly a week since the incident with Pizza Baron, and the guard's injured leg had healed quite a bit. He still limped around, but it was much easier to walk than before.

The animatronics were happy that their suits had been cleaned, but Mike was dismayed when Foxy's was returned with all the tears and wear still there. Nathan had stopped by that day to help them suit up.

* * *

"You know, there's some kind of irony here," Mike commented as he closed up the back of Chica's suit.

"What do you mean?" Freddy asked, testing the movement of his hands.

"Well, you know, I just helped you guys get back in uniform instead of… the other way around," Mike replied, shrugging.

Nathan started to chuckle.

"What do you mean they helped you get 'into uniform'? You walk around here naked?" Nathan joked. He stopped when the animatronics all looked at the ground sadly. "What?" He looked at Mike for answers.

Mike rubbed a hand through his hair, blowing air out through his lips.

"It's… kind of a long story, and not all that pretty," Mike replied vaguely.

"And? What happened?" Nathan questioned, crossing his arms, "You do something bad?"

Mike looked at him in confusion.

"Who, me? No," he replied, "Look, it's a touchy subject, and I'm sorry I brought it up."

The group let the matter drop, even though Nathan burned with curiosity as to what all that meant, but didn't want to upset the animatronics. He finished attaching as much of Foxy's suit as he could. Nathan patted the fox on his newly suited shoulder.

"There ya go, Foxy. Good as… well, not _new_ but… You're clean, anyway, and look like you again," Nathan said awkwardly.

Foxy examined himself, smiling in approval.

"Thank ye, lad, this be much better withou' all tha' bilge on it," he said, and headed for Pirate's Cove, happy to have his little hideaway back.

* * *

That was days ago, and even though all of the Fazbear clan were happy to have things back to normal, they all could admit it was dull. After the excitement of the past few weeks, the regular routine just seemed dry. Until Chica had an idea that night.

"Hey, Mike," Chica called, leaning around the doorway to the security office.

Mike looked up from the camera tablet, having spent the past few nights trying to see if it did anything else besides show the security camera feed.

"Hey Chica, what's up?" Mike greeted, setting the tablet on the desk. Chica imitated a sigh.

"I'm _bored_," she whined, "Let's play a game or something."

Mike leaned back and crossed his arms.

"Anything at this point. Ideas?" the guard asked.

Chica started to grin wickedly.

"Well… Remember the first week ya worked here?" Chica asked.

Mike arched an eyebrow. Of course he remembered, he almost died!

"Yes…" Mike replied, wondering where Chica was headed.

"I was thinking we'd play that," Chica explained, "You'd be here, then we'd walk around and try and catch ya. Without stuffing you, of course." The last sentence was tacked on quickly.

Mike stared at the chicken, and folded his hands in front of his chest.

"Let me get this straight: You want me to play a game based off of when you guys tried to _kill me _like some kind of sadistic hide and seek? You want me to relive the worst nights of my life all over again simply for a little fun? Who thinks of crap like that?" Mike asked, bewildered.

Chica frowned.

"Well if you're gonna be like that I'd rather die of boredom," Chica retorted, and immediately turned on a heel and walked away.

Mike watched her go, shaking his head at the idea of going through all of that _again_ just because Chica was bored. Yes, there at least wouldn't be a threat on his life, but it was still nerve wracking just in general. The animatronics were disturbingly good at sneaking around. Then again, it _was_ really satisfying when the clock struck six… Mike stuck his head out of the doorway.

"Fine!" he called after Chica, "Just give me a minute head start or something!" He could hear Chica's laugh echo down the hallway.

"No promises!" she called back, "I'll tell the others!"

* * *

Chica found Freddy first, the bear once again making small adjustments to the layout of the Dining Hall.

"Hello Chica," he greeted, not looking up from his work, "What are you up to?"

"Playing a game with Mike," Chica replied, "Wanna join in?"

Freddy chuckled and shook his head.

"You go ahead, I have a few more things to take care of backstage. Whoever put our suits back messed up my whole system back there," Freddy replied.

Chica nodded once and headed to the Kitchen to look for Bonnie. She wasn't there, but Chica did take in the newly refurbished room and had to admit, it was a pleasant change.

The aging 1980s era ovens, two of which were completely destroyed in the fire, had been replaced by sleeker ones made out of stainless steel. Burned up wooden cabinets had been replaced with metal shelving and everything else flammable had been replaced with steel and other fireproof materials. It gave the entire room an almost space-age kind of feel with all the new gleaming metal. The walls were still discolored from the smoke, but were found to be structurally sound and did not warrant renovating.

Chica left the kitchen with a small grin at the thought of continuing to use the new equipment, and continued looking for Bonnie. The intercom system crackled.

"_Have we started yet?_" Mike asked over the speakers.

"No!" Chica screeched down the hall.

The exchange got Foxy's attention, and he stuck his head out of the curtains of Pirate's Cove.

"Wha's tha lad jabberin' abou'?" Foxy asked. Chica grinned, slightly wickedly.

"Remember tryin' to scare 'im those first few weeks?" Chica asked.

"Aye,"

"Well, we're doing that again, without the suit thing. Like hide and seek," Chica explained.

Foxy's face lit up.

"I love hide 'n' seek!" he cheered, "Do it be jus' us playin'?"

Chica shook her head.

"'Nah, I'm hoping to get Bonnie on board. Seen her?" Chica asked.

Foxy put his hook to his chin in thought.

"I… think… she be Backstage. I dunno fer sure, she hasn' passed by tha Cove in many a while now," Foxy said.

"Eh, probably. Only other place she'd be," Chica replied, and walked off for the Backstage.

"Ye jus' tell me when we be playin', savvy? Don' leave ou' Ol' Foxy!" the fox called after her, before disappearing back into Pirate's Cove.

_Jeez, this starting to be more trouble than it's worth,_ Chica thought as she searched for the rabbit. She finally found Bonnie backstage, as Foxy said, helping Freddy move around suits. Apparently she had been spending most of the night there, if the box of art supplies and scattered sheets of paper were any indication.

"Hi Chica!" Bonnie greeted as the chicken walked through the door.

"Hey Bon," Chica replied, "Want to play a game with me, Foxy, and Mike?"

Bonnie set a spare head of herself onto its appropriate place on the shelf.

"Sure! What are we playing? Tag?" Bonnie asked.

"Eh… sorta. Basically Mike'll be in his office, and we try to tag him while sneaking around the restaurant. Kinda like that first week, but for fun," Chica explained, "If that doesn't bug ya or nothin',"

Bonnie shrugged.

"If Mike said it's okay, then it doesn't bug me at all," Bonnie replied, "It was kinda fun sneaking up on him before."

"That's the whole idea! Foxy wants to play too. You still opting out, Freddo?" Chica asked the bear. He smiled and nodded.

"You all go on ahead, I'll finish up here," he said, and picked up a spare head of Chica, setting it on its shelf.

Bonnie and Chica nodded in unison and walked out through the backstage door and found Foxy sitting on the stage, humming to himself. He looked up.

"Arr! Ye foun' her!" Foxy cheered upon seeing Bonnie.

"Yup, now let's get this thing going. I hope Mike's ready," Chica said, grin spreading across her face.

* * *

_Damn, sure is taking them a while. Why'd I agree to this?_ Mike thought as he flicked through the cameras. He suddenly noticed none of the animatronics could be seen walking around (except for Freddy, who was Backstage). The first inkling the game was on was when he found Bonnie staring into the camera hooked up to the supply closet, just like his first week.

The guard shivered involuntarily, Bonnie still just as threatening even though he wasn't in any real danger. The camera feed flickered and became snowy until it cut out completely. After a few seconds, it returned, but Bonnie was nowhere to be found.

_How the hell do they do that?_ Mike wondered, and quickly got back into the habit of keeping a roving sweep, only a few seconds for each camera. Chica was standing in the Dining Hall with her back to the camera, and Foxy had started creeping out of his curtains, giving a slack-jawed grin into the camera.

Getting second feelings about deciding to "play," Mike quickly flicked to Backstage, hoping for a little bit of normalcy by seeing Freddy be his usual obsessive-compulsive self. As a result, he nearly jumped out of his skin when he found that the bear had angled all of the suit heads to stare eyelessly at the camera. He let out an audible shout, and could barely make out the bear chuckling in the distance.

"Screw you, Freddy, I thought you weren't playing!" Mike yelled down the hall. The darkness of the pizzeria seemed just as sinister again, and the guard quickly tucked himself back into the security office. It was always dark, power needing to be conserved, but wasn't as intimidating when the animatronics were around. He went back to the cameras.

The feed revealed that Chica wasn't anywhere, and he flashed both lights, illuminating Chica at the right door, staring at him. He cursed and slammed the door close just as the chicken lunged. A bang sounded as Chica slammed a fist against it in frustration.

"Dang it! I was so close!" she groaned in frustration.

"Ha!" Mike replied, and watched her leave.

As he was staring through the window, he suddenly felt a hand roughly grab his shoulder and screamed as it spun him around. Bonnie grinned broadly in triumph and gave an unintentionally hard tap on Mike's head.

"Tag! You're it!" she announced, and let go, leaving as quickly as she could through the open left door.

Mike calmed himself, reopened the right door, and pursued the fleeing purple rabbit.

"Get back here!" he yelled, chasing Bonnie down the hall. While only Foxy could move at a flat-out sprint due to the lack of a suit around his legs, the others were no slouches either, and Mike found it difficult to keep up.

Halfway into the Dining Hall, he noticed Chica walking in from the other hallway, and quickly changed course. She watched him curiously, and when she finally realized what was going on, it was too late. Mike put a hand on her wing.

"You're it!" he announced, and heard Bonnie laugh in delight from elsewhere in the room. The guard bolted, glancing behind him to see Chica charge after him, voice box screeching quietly. The guard kept running, lapping through his office and charging again down the left side hallway. But Mike had one big disadvantage: stamina. Unlike the animatronics, he couldn't run forever, and this was the most he had done at one time since he was in high school.

Mike slowed, stopping near the curtains to Pirate's Cove, and put his hands on his knees, gasping for breath. He could hear heavy footsteps quickly approaching, and felt Chica smack him lightly on the back with her hand.

"You're it, sucker!" she said, and kept running down the hall. Mike watched her, still out of breath, and noticed Foxy watching through the curtain out of the corner of his eye. He kept on pretending to be winded, and slowly staggered his way in front of the curtain.

Suddenly, Mike snapped his head up and shot an arm through the curtain, feeling it connect with Foxy, who tried to dodge it.

"You're it," Mike told the fox, slightly out of breath, and began to run for the Dining Hall.

"Hey! Ge' back here, ya swab!" Foxy yelled, and charged full-speed out of Pirate's Cove.

The fox reached Mike in seconds, struggling to stop. His metal feet slid on the tiled floor, and he slammed into Mike, knocking him to the ground. Trying to avoid the guard made Foxy lose his balance as well, and he tripped over his own legs. Mike shouted in pain while Foxy screeched in surprise.

Mike landed with a grunt and a swear, Foxy with a metal crash. Both slid slightly across the waxed floor and lay there. Mike grasped his still healing leg and groaned. Foxy lay on his back and struggled to right himself so he could stand up. Freddy ran into the Dining Hall, having heard the collision from inside the Kitchen.

"Are you alright?" the bear asked, helping Mike to his feet. The guard nodded.

"Yeah- Ah!" he winced as he tested his leg. It supported him. "Leg's acting up, but I'm all good."

Meanwhile, Foxy finally managed to roll onto his front and stand up.

"Blazes," he said, shaking his head, "I be sorry, Mike. It was a acciden', it was."

Mike nodded and waved a hand dismissively.

"I know, it's fine. No real harm done," Mike said, and collapsed into a Dining Hall chair Freddy pulled out for him.

Chica and Bonnie arrived to see what that crash was, and Mike once again explained that he was fine. They both imitated sighs of relief.

"We thought someone broke in again," Chica said, "I guess we win?"

"Sure," Mike replied, "You guys win."

* * *

Mike gathered his things and stood by the front entrance as the clock neared six a.m. Freddy, Bonnie, and Chica stood in their places. Mike gave a departing wave which the animatronics returned before locking into their regular show positions. The clock gave out its usual chime, and two minutes later Arianna arrived to relieve him.

"Hey boss," Mike greeted. Arianna nodded in acknowledgement.

"Schmidt," she said in turn, and began her usual morning inspections.

"See you tonight, guys!" Mike called at the now unmoving animatronics, and walked outside the door, rubbing his eyes.

As he arrived at the bus stop, he groaned smacked his forehead. Mike had his other job, a cashier at a grocery store, starting in a few hours, and he had robbed himself of any real sleep through playing that game.

_Eh, screw it. Not like it's all that hard,_ Mike thought to himself, and stepped on the arriving bus bound for his apartment complex.

* * *

Two hours later, Mike sat struggling to keep his eyes open, having dragged a tall stool behind his station. There was a new guy, a bagger named Troy, who clearly was a morning person and wouldn't leave him alone.

"So, you in college?" Troy asked.

"Graduated," Mike replied sleepily. Only a few customers were around, and they had picked other lanes at the moment.

"Oh, cool. I'm just starting classes myself. What'd you major in?" Troy pressed.

Mike sighed, "I got a Bachelor's in None of Your Damn Business. Can you shut it for a second? I'm tired."

Troy nodded apologetically and leaned against the counter, drumming his fingers against the edge. A short silence permeated, and a customer arrived with a few items.

"Find everything alright?" Mike asked sleepily as he scanned each item's barcode. The customer didn't say anything, and quickly paid for his purchases and left. After the customer departed, Troy spoke up again.

"So, this your only job?" he asked.

Mike shook his head.

"Nah, I'm a night guard too," Mike replied, not wanting to mention the still rumored pizzeria. The recent break in and subsequent deaths of the perpetrators hadn't improved the reputation much, but was still cast in a better light from the even more recent Pizza Baron disaster.

"So that explains why you're tired. Where at?" Troy asked, interested.

"Freddy Fazbear's," Mike replied automatically, eyes widening once he realized his mistake.

Troy stared at him in fascination.

"Really? That place? Dude, what's it like? I heard it was haunted by the spirits of those kids that got killed. Is that true?" Troy pressed, leaning closer to Mike as if listening to someone tell a scary story.

"No, that's just an urban legend," Mike replied bitterly.

"Oh, okay. Well, what about those robots?" Troy asked.

"What about 'em?" Mike asked suspiciously.

"Well, there was this article, released a few days ago actually, that interviewed a guy who was a night guard there too, and he said that those things were evil and tried to kill him!" Troy related, "I thought it was bullshit, coming from the _Investigator_ and all, but now I got an inside guy! Is it true?"

Mike was fully awake now.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. What article?" Mike asked.

Troy walked over to the newspaper rack and searched through it, before smiling in triumph and pulling out a copy of the _National Investigator_, a major tabloid magazine. The cover story was about Freddy's, the headline read "_Secret Killer Robots at Kids' Restaurant? Ex-employee Tells All!_" with a picture of Chica posted side by side with a picture of a Terminator, the restaurant in the background. Mike grabbed it from Troy, quickly turning the pages to the story.

_Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria may not be as cheerful as it may seem, says an ex employee that refused to give his name. Could the happy animatronics actually be evil machines bent on destruction? Our inside source says: Yes! _

_ "I would sit in the office, for hours, watching the cameras. There were these messages recorded by like, one of the first night guards, and he told me all about how they wandered around. That's messed up right? They just straight-up step off the stage and walk around the building, but only at night. _

_ "Anyways, so I had to sit in the office, and the guy on the phone said that they thought I was an endoskeleton without a suit on, and that the robots would try and fix it. That means stuffing me into those suits, which doesn't sound all that bad until you realize it's got a bunch of wires and s***t and is like a big cheese grater. You're grinded into a pulp. _

_ "So I had to watch these freaks walk around with the security cameras and close these big metal doors to keep them out of the office. Now, power's apparently conserved at night, so most of the lights are off, and if it runs out, the entire building gets pitch black and that bear shows up, playing this jingle. That's what happened my second night, and I quit on the spot. At six in the morning they stop, no matter what, and right as that damn jingle ended the clock struck six. I counted my lucky stars and sent in my resignation, and just walked out. I'm telling you, those things are bad news. I ain't the first guard there, there had to have been several more. Remember all those missing person's reports? I don't think they're missing, I think they're backstage, if you get my drift. And I think there's more than three, the guy on the phone said something about a 'Foxy' in that curtained off thing in Pirate's Cove, but I never saw it."_

_ Is this account to be believed? Decide for yourself. Freddy Fazbear's has had its difficulties and tragedies, even at the first location…_

"First location?" Mike wondered aloud. Troy stared at him.

"What?" he asked. Mike looked at him.

"This thing isn't true, just regular tabloid crap," Mike said quickly, and rolled up the magazine.

"Alright, if you say so," Troy said, and they both greeted another customer.

* * *

Four hours later, Mike took his lunch break and headed straight for the restaurant, bumming a ride from another employee heading there for the cheap pizza. He had the magazine rolled up in his back pocket.

Inside, several families were scattered about the Dining Hall, an impressive turnout for the middle of the week, as well as few younger people just there for the low prices. There were definite differences in expressions to the people who got one of Chica's pizzas as opposed to the cooks'. Freddy, Bonnie, and Chica were halfway through their show, and Freddy locked eyes with Mike briefly, the closest he could get to saying hello. Bonnie's grin broadened as she did the same, and snuck a wave. Chica glanced over, smiled, and went back to performing.

Mike's carpool companion wandered off to order food, but the night guard headed straight for Arianna's office. He knocked on the door, and Arianna did a double take, then waved him in.

"Schmidt? What the hell are you wearing?" she asked. Mike rolled his eyes.

"I got another job at a grocery store. Look, I have something important to show you," Mike replied, and pulled out the tabloid, tossing it onto Arianna's desk.

The manager stared at the headline, and just like Mike nearly tore the pages getting to the article.

"_Evil machines bent on destruction?_ What the hell?" Arianna said, and flicked through the article, "Who the fuck went public? They signed a non-disclosure for a reason!"

Mike shrugged.

"Hell if I know. Will this be a problem?" he asked. Arianna shook her head.

"Not if I can get it pulled fast enough. Thankfully it's just a tabloid, but that also means that the really crazy ass loud people read it too, and this could spread," Arianna explained, "Hey, they got the author here… You don't think Foxy could-."

"No! Well, I mean, he _could_, but I'm not going to ask in case he says yes!" Mike protested. Arianna chuckled.

"Relax, Schmidt, I'm only joking," Arianna replied, then muttered, "Kind of." Mike sighed and decided to change the subject.

"So what's this 'first location'?" he asked. Arianna frowned.

"I don't know. I've heard for years this was the first Freddy Fazbear's, now all of a sudden apparently there's other location that takes that title," Arianna said, "I'll do some digging in the company records and get back to you. Maybe there's something there that can help us out."

"Like what?"

"I don't know, parts for the animatronics? Stuff's gonna wear out eventually, and there isn't much Backstage aside from all those suits," Arianna said, "Whatever, it might be torn down for all we know. Go back to your paper and plastic, Schmidt, I'll call you if I need you."

"And you have a good day as well," Mike replied sarcastically, and walked back out into the Dining Hall.

The show had ended, and the animatronics began to say their goodbyes.

"That's it for us, everybody, thanks for watching our show!" Freddy said to the audience.

"Yeah!" Chica added, "Enjoy the pizza!"

"And have a great day!" Bonnie chimed in.

The three robots turned and waved in Mike's general direction.

"We'll see you real soon!" they said in unison, and the curtain lowered.

* * *

_**A/N: Howdy folks. Well… Remember when I said I'd post a Golden Years one-shot first? Yeah… no, gonna hold off on that and do it next week in honor of the holidays (it's the Christmas special, in case you were curious). That and I really wanted to begin Night Six. **_

_**Unfortunately, some sad news. Someone stole my first story. Found it on QuoteV, and it's being taken care of, but I feel like some trust has been lost. But whatever, 99% of you are good people, so I won't let it drag me down too much (I wish I could sue), I'm not sure how much I'm protected, so I'll have to see how it pans out. Moving on:**_

_**Okay, so, here's how FNaF 2 fits in here: I'm treating the restaurant like a prequel in that it existed before the FNaF restaurant (the current one we all know and love), but it'll be used as a sort of sequel in that it is already closed down. But as we've seen with Foxy, closed down does not mean anything was deactivated, and all of the animatronics WILL be operational. I have a cool idea regarding the Puppet, but we'll have to wait and see. **_

_**So for now, welcome to Night Six, the Bonus Night, and where I finally jump on board of the sequel train. Choo choo! –DeltaV "Don't need a credit card to ride this train!" (It's the Power of Love. Okay, it's a Back to the Future reference.)**_

_**Oh, crap, almost forgot, since it's a new story: I don't own Five Nights at Freddy's nor do I own Five Nights at Freddy's 2. They belong to Scotty boy. I do, however, own my **__**characterizations**__** of existing characters and any original creations, as well as the plot and most of the share holdings. For any legal concerns please forward them to the following email: pleasedontsuemeihavenomoney **_


	2. Chapter One

Chapter One: Something Borrowed

Balloon Boy ("BB to my friends!") stood in the Game Area, usual huge smile on his face as he stared blankly at the carousel, the best carousel _ever_! It was nighttime, his absolute _favorite_ time of the day (except when it was daytime), and he felt his joints loosen. He loved it when he could move around, but sitting in place was fun too! When he stood still he could watch the paint fade, which was _awesome_ because over time the color could completely change, which reminded him of this one time when-.

"_Bzzyrtz?_" came a garbled voice from above him. BB looked up, and smiled widely.

"Hi Mangle!" he called up, seeing his friend hanging from the ceiling above him.

Mangle waved her still suited hand.

"_Byrzztzxxx,_" she said.

"Marion's weekly meeting's today? Well shoot, let's go!" BB translated to himself.

The smaller animatronic let go of a large balloon he had inflated for himself to simply hold, watching happily as it floated and bumped against the ceiling. Marion was the best, he helped the animatronics stay clean and even found BB helium tanks so he could still make balloons. Mangle let out a garbled reply and followed the balloon maker from the ceiling, batting the discarded floating toy as she passed. Her balance functions were completely destroyed, and she couldn't walk upright, and had to crawl around. She had gotten good at it over the years, however, and found she could scale the walls and ceiling.

Their destination was the Prize Corner, where Marion lived. He was a lot different from them, even BB. He never really walked around, at all, and sometimes would disappear for up to days at a time. But he always came back, usually with parts for the other animatronics or supplies to keep the restaurant relatively clean.

His full name was actually Marionette, and he was really skinny with stick-like arms and a white face with purple lines and an ever present smile. Most of the time he was in a large gift box, all curled up, presumably to charge, but every so often Marion became active and called the others together. Like tonight.

Along the way, Mangle and BB ran into Freddy.

"Oh, hello!" he said in a rather goofy voice, "Ready for the meeting?"

"Yup!" BB replied.

"_Bzrt,_" Mangle agreed.

"Great! I'll see you guys there!" Freddy said cheerfully, and wandered back towards the Show Stage.

BB and Mangle continued their journey. It wasn't particularly far, but they stopped whenever another animatronic came across their way to exchange pleasantries. Unlike the main trio, which spent the shutdown period together, Mangle and BB only saw them and each other during the night, and even though the restaurant had been closed for years they still found new things at every meeting. Today, it was about their newest visitors.

Marion rose out of his box as the animatronics approached.

"So, you guys had some guests, I hear?" he asked pleasantly, mouth not moving, arms folded in front of him.

"Yup! Really silly people too!" Chica said, and the animatronics began their recount.

* * *

Bonnie had seen them first from his spot onstage. It looked like a pair of grown-ups, in their late twenties. Both were men, and one of them held up a handheld camera, sweeping it around the inside of the decaying restaurant.

"Check this out, guys: the old Freddy Fazbear's. You know the one that's around now? _It isn't the first._ This one was, and I looked in to it, and they caught this serial killer here. He killed two kids and left them in the maintenance room, and they had to close down while the whole thing was investigated," the man said to the camera, pointing it to his face, "They found out it was the Kid Killer, a messed up guy that had a pure hatred of kids, but they never caught him. Lots of people say it was him who killed those six kids at the other restaurant, the one that's still open, and even more swear he's still at large."

The man's partner snorted.

"C'mon Adam, they caught that guy, remember?" the other man said, "Quit your conspiracy crap and start looking for cool stuff to film."

Adam shrugged and grinned.

"Alright. Everyone look at Terry's stupid face!" Adam narrated, sticking the camera into is friend's face. He swatted it away.

"Cut that out!" Terry said, and began wandering around, digging through the receptionist desk. Adam swept the camera around the lobby, and let out a low whistle.

"Dude, look at this place. It's… clean," Adam noted.

Terry wiped a finger along the desk's surface, and rubbed at the layer of dust that stuck to it.

"Not that clean," he countered.

"No, no, I mean, there's no trash lying around, it's like someone's living here. Yeah, it's dingy and run-down, but this place probably had a janitor team to handle that," Adam explained.

"Good point."

"Let's check out some of the other rooms," Adam suggested, and began walking to the door that led to Kid's Cove. He aimed his camera up, and paused, staring hard at the marks on the ceiling.

"What's up?" Terry asked, following Adam's gaze.

"Up there, on the ceiling. See those marks?" Adam asked, pointing.

"Yeah. What about 'em?"

"Those look like claw marks, like something was grabbing on it," Adam replied, and zoomed in on the evidence of Mangle's method of travel.

Terry stared hard, brow furrowed in thought.

"Rats, maybe?" he suggested. Adam shook his head.

"No, too big. Maybe it's just decay or something," he concluded.

"Probably," Terry agreed, hoping they were right.

The duo opened the door to Kid's Cove, taking in the tables and faded cheerful wallpaper. A poster featuring Mangle hung on the far wall, one of the top corners detached and covering a portion of it. Adam and Terry explored it, and happened upon Mangle in her corner of the room.

"What. Is. That?" Terry asked, taking a step back. Adam zoomed in with the camera.

"Looks like one of their old robots. I can't believe it's still here! Jeez, look at it. Just a mess of parts," Adam observed, slightly sad. It was a bit depressing seeing the ruined state of a once proud restaurant.

Terry stared at Mangle's actual head, the one still wearing her suit, taking in the missing eye and sharp teeth.

"It's fucking creepy, dude. Let's get out of here," Terry said, and walked out the door, Adam following.

* * *

Unbeknownst to the two explorers, their presence activated the animatronics' show programming, unlocking their joints to allow them to perform. And wander around the restaurant. As the men left Kid's Cove, Mangle's remaining eye lit up, and she raised herself slightly on her newly-unlocked limbs, watching the two men depart.

"_Bxxzyrt xxzyxrz?" _she wondered aloud, and crawled up the wall and onto the ceiling, observing them through the doorway as they moved deeper into the restaurant. Curious, she began to follow them, trying to stay out of sight. Mangle watched, interested, as Adam and Terry walked towards the Prize Corner.

"_Bzyrr_" she muttered softly to herself, and pulled herself closer against the ceiling.

* * *

"Check this stuff out!" Adam said, grabbing a Chica plushie off of the prize shelf, "It's like they just up and left!"

"Weird. You'd think they would at least take the merchandise to the new place," Terry thought, picking up a toy replica of Bonnie's guitar, and noticed one of Foxy.

"That's weird, who's this? There's only three now, right? Was this guy ever a character?" Terry asked Adam, handing him the plushie, which watched them pleasantly from behind its tiny eye patch. Adam studied it.

"Yeah, but at the newer place. He was the one that bit that guy. That's odd, why are there toys of him?" Adam wondered aloud.

"Maybe they were going to debut him here, and already had these made," Terry suggested.

"That could be it. Pretty damn cute," Adam observed, and put the toy back on the shelf.

The two of them dug through other drawers and shelves in the Prize Corner, finding more plushies of various characters, toy microphones, guitars, top hats, and other knick-knacks based on the restaurant.

"Really wanted to milk this thing for all it was worth, huh?" Terry said, looking at all of the prizes.

"Wouldn't you? The newer place was the shit when I was a kid," Adam replied, and found a large gift box sitting on the counter, a much smaller wooden one beside it. He took off the lid and peered inside.

"What the hell?" he said aloud, and reached in, pulling out a very limp Marionette by his armpits, "Is this some sort of puppet?"

From her place on the ceiling, Mangle let out a surprised garble. Marion was still charging, it seemed, and he had frequently complained on having a small power supply. Mangle watched as one of the new visitors examined the puppet, turning it this way and that in his hands.

"That's creepy bro," Terry said, taking the camera and pointing it at Adam and Marion.

"Well, I don't want to ruin this, I'll just put it back," Adam concluded, and neatly folded Marion back into the large gift box and replaced its lid. Then he spotted the music box.

"Huh?" he said, and opened it. A miniature gramophone sat in the center, on a small pedestal that looked like it could spin. He tested the crank experimentally, and smiled slightly when he found that the box still worked.

Adam wound the box all the way, noting an odd wire that connected the box to a security camera aimed at the counter. The box began to play a small melody from _My Grandfather's Clock_, looping over and over. The sound drifted into the Dining Hall, onto the Show Stage.

* * *

Bonnie's eyes lit up and he felt his joints unlock, as did Freddy and Chica. He quickly broke into a massive grin.

"Oh boy! New guests!" Bonnie cheered, turning to the others, "I love it when we get new guests!"

"Let's go meet them!" Chica said anxiously, "It's been, like, _forever_ since we had guests!"

Freddy nodded vigorously.

"Yeah!" he said, "C'mon gang!"

* * *

Mangle became incredibly excited when they played the music box, and clambered across the ceiling over to the doorway, hanging upside down over the two men. She gripped onto the ceiling with her feet and one hand, and lowered herself to the point where the mutilated fox could almost touch them. Mangle was about to make herself known to their newest guests when she heard Freddy call out at them from across the hall.

"Hi! Welcome to Freddy Fazbear's! I'm Freddy, what's your name?" Freddy greeted jauntily.

The two men whirled around, and Mangle quickly rose up out of the way. They didn't see her.

"What the…?" Terry asked, and Adam quickly grabbed the camera from his shocked hands and began recording the robots.

"He said welcome to Freddy's!" Chica repeated, figuring they didn't understand the question, "I'm Chica!"

Bonnie stepped forward, holding his guitar in his left hand and offering his right to shake.

"And I'm Bonnie! It's awesome to see some new faces, are you new in town?" Bonnie asked, looking at the two men expectantly. Terry turned to Adam.

"Are… those the…?" he asked quietly. Adam slowly nodded.

"Yes. Those are the animatronics. I don't know what's going on right now, so let's just play along, okay?" Adam muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

A garbled noise sounded above them, and Mangle swung down from the ceiling, directly in front of the two explorers, wide grin on her suited face as her one eye glowed brightly.

"_Byrzzxt! TxxxyrtManglezxxxyrrrtxxxplay?_" Mangle asked, introducing herself. Adam and Terry balked at the frightening appearance of Mangle and the unwavering stare of the others.

"Uh, uh, um, I-, uh," Terry stammered, unable to stop staring at Mangle. Chica laughed.

"Relax, silly, it's okay if you're shy!" Chica comforted, and offered her empty plate, "Would you like a cupcake?" Freddy tapped her on the shoulder.

"Chica, dear, that plate is empty," Freddy pointed out, laughing.

"Oh, sorry, it's just been so long!" Chica replied, laughing as well. Bonnie finally put his hand down, grasping the base of his guitar with it.

"Do you want me to give you a tour? Oh, maybe play a song? _Oh!_ Why don't we go to the Game Area? New guests _have_ to try the Game Area! C'mon new friends!" Bonnie said, and grabbed Adam's hand, dragging him along.

"Hey! Terry, help!" Adam called. Chica turned to Terry.

"So _that's _your name! C'mon, Terry! We're gonna have so much fun!" Chica assured, and grabbed his hand as well, following Bonnie's lead.

* * *

The rabbit and chicken each pulled their newest "friends" into the Game Area, where Freddy met them. He gestured with his hand at the dusty, aged carousel and multiple tables. Long-deflated balloons still attached to strings lay on the floor, and a faded "Happy Birthday!" banner hung from the ceiling. The tables still had party hats on top, still sitting upright.

"Welcome to the Game Area, Terry and I-Don't-Know-Your-Name!" Freddy said, making a big show off of introducing the space, "Try the carousel, get a balloon, and have a party!"

Bonnie and Chica let their respective captives go and stood behind them, watching expectantly. Adam and Terry exchanged nervous glances.

"What do we do?" Terry asked quietly.

"Make a break for the entrance, on three," Adam whispered, "One-."

"Don't be shy, guys!" Bonnie said, and grabbed Adam under the armpits, leaving his guitar propped against a wall, "Try the carousel! You can even sit on me!" Bonnie lifted Adam skyward easily, and plopped him onto the blue rabbit carousel car. He was much too big, and hit his head on the carousel's roof.

Chica grabbed Terry and put him on the yellow duck, pressed the start button, and waited. Terry and Adam sat awkwardly waiting for something to happen, but the carousel had gone far too long without use and had broken down where it stood. Freddy quickly realized this, and lifted both men off of the ride.

"I'm so sorry, this darn thing is broken! We'll have it fixed for next time, okay?" he apologized, hoping his new friends wouldn't leave because of it.

"I-it's okay. Look, we really need to go…" Adam began walking towards the main entrance. Bonnie stepped in front of him.

"But you just got here! C'mon, I'm sure we can do _something_ fun!" Bonnie pleaded. He didn't want their new friends to leave already!

"No, no, we really need to- _three!_" Adam screamed, and both he had Terry bolted for the entrance. Mangle lowered down in front of them, confused.

"_Zzzyrt?_" she asked, and Adam slammed into her, bouncing off and landing on the floor, camera flying from his hands. Freddy rushed to his aid.

"Are you alright?" the bear asked, incredibly worried. Adam quickly stood up, leaving his camera where it had fallen, and continued his sprint for the entrance. Chica grabbed the camera and followed them.

"Wait! You forgot your… thingy!" she said, holding it up. The two men paid no mind, crawling back through the window they broke in from and putting as much distance between themselves and the pizzeria as they could.

* * *

"I see," Marion said seriously, "You know, we're closed now, and _no one_ is allowed inside. Remember?"

The animatronics looked at the floor.

"Yes," they all said in unison.

"_Zzzyrx,_" Mangle added.

Marion's voice softened slightly.

"Just make sure it doesn't happen again, okay? Remember the programming!" he said, and the animatronics all spoke in unison once more.

"Nobody that isn't staff is allowed after hours," they all chorused.

"Very good," Marion praised, "Now, BB, I found some more helium downstairs the other day. It's underneath the counter."

BB grinned.

"_Wow!_ Thanks Marion, you're the best!" he said gratefully, and retrieved the small tanks, switching out the empty one in his torso.

Marion turned to Freddy.

"Freddy, I need you and the others to clean up that awful mess in the Dining Hall. Hop to it, if you please," he ordered.

"You got it, boss!" Freddy replied, and gestured for Bonnie and Chica to follow. Mangle hung down in front of Marion.

"_Byrrzt?"_ she asked.

"Pardon?" Marion asked. BB spoke up.

"She said 'What can I do?'" BB translated, "Aw, that's sweet Mangley!"

Marion put the end of his long sleeve to his chin in though.

"Hmm, go see if you can get some of those cobwebs out of the corners of the ceiling. That'll be all for tonight," Marion said, and went back into his box, Mangle replacing the lid.

"Sure is sad he can't stick around too long, with his small battery and all," BB said, and looked up at Mangle, "I'll go with ya, Mangle, keep you company while you clean!"

Mangle nodded, and scuttled across to the first corner, taking a rag BB picked up and slapping away at a cobweb.

* * *

Meanwhile, in the other, open Freddy Fazbear's, Foxy was currently digging through his treasure chest, pulling out a few pirate themed knick-knacks and props he had received over the years. Deep down he found a ship in a bottle. _His _ship in a bottle, to be specific, since the model in there was of what the _Red Fox_ looked like; a small two-masted galleon. It was one of Foxy's most prized possessions, and he set it down gently, before riffling through the chest again.

He tossed out the "First Mate's hat," his prop cutlass, many plastic gold coins and bars, an old map, a spare eye patch, the key to the chest (which hung on a string like a necklace), and an empty bottle of "rum" (juice).

The chest now empty, Foxy went to reorganizing it, putting the gold on the bottom and his most cherished possessions towards the top. They were the only things from his Pirate Cove show he had left, as he sat on the chest during the day, making it too difficult for the staff to get rid of it.

Mike stuck his head through the curtain, noticing the pirate repacking his chest.

"Hey Foxy. Spring cleaning?" Mike asked.

"Aye. Jus' a lil' bit ta find things easier," Foxy explained. Mike nodded.

"Alright. Come out to the Dining Hall, I got news," Mike said.

* * *

Several minutes later, all the animatronics and Mike were gathered around a table in the Dining Hall, looking at a magazine Mike had brought in.

"So basically, someone talked," Mike explained, "And now we're trying to get this article pulled, but that's Arianna's job, not ours. What I wanted to talk about was this other location. Do you guys remember anything like that?"

The animatronics searched through their memories as far back as they could.

"No," Bonnie said.

"Nope," Chica added.

"'Nah, sorry mate," Foxy said.

"I'm afraid not, Michael," Freddy finished.

Mike scratched his head.

"Alright, I guess I gotta do some digging. The article never mentioned where it was or what happened to it, other than it closed. I want to check it out and see if there's anything worth bringing over here, like parts and stuff. Nathan said that the Backstage can't support a complete breakdown anymore, so we need to find Fazbear technology," Mike said.

"He did?" Freddy asked, "I thought there were plenty of spare parts. Are you sure you're not just curious, Michael?"

Mike grinned.

"Alright, you caught me," Mike admitted, "But seriously, there might be some useful stuff there if it hasn't been cleaned out."

"But we don't know where it is," Chica pointed out.

"Yes, but I'll find out. Arianna's got her hands full with the magazine, so I'm on my own," Mike replied.

A silence fell as the conversation ended.

"Now what?" Chica asked.

Foxy smiled and walked up to Freddy, poking him with the hook.

"Tag. Yer it!" Foxy said, and took off running.

_**A/N: Welp, here's the new robots. Feel free to leave a review telling me what you think about 'em. Not a whole lot else to really talk about, other than I want to ask a question to you guys: **_

_**So you know how Night Seven is the "Custom Night" in the games, right? I wanted to do that with this series. Basically, hold a submission period where you guys would submit story ideas set in my universe (with a few rules regulating them), and then write as many as I can to the best of my ability (you would of course be credited for the plot idea). Just an idea, so tell me what you think. I'd have my good friends helping me go through submissions when (if) they occur, but I wanted to test the waters a bit, see what you all think. **_

_**Until next time, have a good one! –DeltaV, "I do it for my fans, the things sitting on my desk spinning happily as the Night goes by!" **_


	3. Chapter Two

Chapter Two: Planning and Playing

Arianna grabbed her office phone off of its cradle and punched in the business number for the _National Investigator_, leaning back and drumming her nails on her desktop as it rang. After several rings, an answering machine picked up.

"_Hello and thank you for calling the offices of the National Investigator, your number one source for news others don't want you to know! To report a story or sighting about Bigfoot, the Loch Ness Monster, or other creature sightings, please press one! To tell us about your close encounters with what you swear are aliens, please press two! To praise the accuracy of our articles and request their paid use in one of your own newsletters, please press three! To complain about the inaccuracy you seem to find in our articles, please press four! To suggest-,_"the voice was cut off by Arianna punching the four key on the phone's keypad.

"_You wish to complain. Please stay on the line, a representative from our publishing staff will be with you shortly,"_ the machine assured, and obnoxious music blared out of the phone as Arianna was put on hold. She scowled and held it away from her ear.

After nearly two minutes waiting, an audible _click_ was heard, and a bored-sounding woman answered.

"_Thank you for holding, how may I help you?"_ the woman asked.

"Yeah, hi, I'm the manager of Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, the business you wrote that story on in your latest issue, and I'm wondering if it would be possible to pull that out of circulation on the grounds of false information," Arianna said, forcing out a polite tone, yet keeping a distinct edge.

"_I'm sorry, but due to our protection under the Freedom of the Press and First Amendment we have the right to publish any material that doesn't infringe upon the rights of others nor presents a serious threat to national security. As a result we cannot fulfill your request to recall any issues in circulation as we are operating within our rights as a journalism institution,_" the woman replied as if she had had to say it hundreds of times prior, "_Will there be anything else?_"

"Yeah, actually. Could I have the name of the person you interviewed?" Arianna asked, trying extremely hard to not lose her temper.

"_I'm sorry, but due to our protection under the Freedom of the Press and First Amendment we reserve the right to our source's privacy,_" the woman repeated her obviously well-rehearsed line, "_Will there be anything else?_"

Arianna pounded her desk with frustration.

"You don't quite understand, our employees sign a non-disclosure agreement and if the person you interviewed is indeed an ex-night guard, then we have a legal problem here," Arianna threatened.

"_Ma'am, we're a tabloid magazine. We get this all the time. We can't tell you who he or she was, and do you want my advice?_" the woman asked.

"_No_," Arianna snapped.

"_Let it go. Nobody takes tabloids seriously. Have a good day,_" the woman hung up.

Arianna slammed the phone down with a swear. She was _pissed._ Despite the blunt rudeness of the woman she talked to, Arianna was also upset at the non-disclosure breach.

If the other employees that survive-, _retired_ after working the night shift went public, then it could capture the attention of more than just a supermarket tabloid. Right from the beginning the manager knew she couldn't get the article pulled, but she hoped opening with the more radical option would make the request for the source name seem reasonable. Clearly, that plan had failed.

_Back to the fricking drawing board… Wait a sec,_ Arianna thought, and picked up the phone, dialing the number of _National Investigator,_ ignoring the answering machine and immediately pressing three.

"_You wish to compliment one of our articles! Our publishing representative will be with you, and your call will be recorded in order to keep these on record!_" the answering machine said, and a much more soothing, quieter holding music began to play.

"_Thank you for calling the National Investigator to leave a positive comment, how can I help you?_" a much cheerier sounding woman asked.

"Yeah, hi, I wanted to praise the writing for the Freddy Fazbear's article, the cover story of your latest issue. Do you happen to have access to the author's phone number? I wanted to thank him personally for exposing the truth," Arianna lied smoothly, grinning widely at her new plan.

"_Certainly_, _he's actually in right now, I'll connect you,_" the woman said, and the phone rang again.

_This is a fucking weird magazine,_ Arianna thought to herself as a _click_ signified the phone had been answered.

"_Wilbur Fairmont,_" the person on the other line answered.

"Hello Willy, I'm the current manager of Freddy Fazbear's Pizza," Arianna told him, introducing herself. She smiled slightly as Wilbur paused.

"_Ok, so? What, you got a problem with my story?_" Wilbur asked.

"No, I don't, the opposite as a matter of fact," Arianna lied, "I wanted to congratulate you for exposing this place's evil tendencies. You want another scoop?"

A small gasp sounded through the phone.

"_You got more? This has been our most popular article that we've ever published, whatch'a got?" _Wilbur asked eagerly.

Arianna inwardly groaned at the article's popularity.

_Figures,_ she thought, and immediately faked being interested.

"I'll tell you everything I know, I've worked here for years, seen shit that'd make your hair turn white," Arianna baited, "I think it'd be interesting to interview you here, after hours of course. Say… 11:30 at night? When are you free?"

Wilbur sighed as he thought the offer over.

"_Jesus, that's pretty late. Um… I don't know, probably not for a few days at least. Lots of other stories, know what I'm saying?"_ Wilbur boasted.

_Not impressed, asshole,_ Arianna thought.

"How about tomorrow night? Free then?" she asked, "I can let you in."

"_Well, the truth isn't going to expose itself, now is it? Alright, tomorrow night at 11:30. You better be there," _Wilbur replied, and hung up.

Arianna chuckled darkly to herself and grinned.

"Oh I will, and we won't be alone," she said to herself.

* * *

Night guard Mike Schmidt sat in the city's public library, going over building records and permits searching for anything that could help inform him on the other pizzeria's whereabouts.

"Hrm… There's the facility where the guys were constructed, and the current location, but where's the other?" Mike muttered to himself as he went slide after slide. No results.

"Odd," Mike said, scratching his cheek, "Maybe there's an article about the opening or something. Let's see… 1982?" One of the first headlines mentioned Freddy's.

_**New Restaurant to Feature Advanced Robotics**_ the headline read.

"_Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, constructed by the newly created Fazbear Entertainment, is set to open its doors in the summer of this year, the company announced very recently. This is not the first restaurant of its type, with another location lasting for only a month before mysteriously closing doors in 1980." _Mike read aloud. The article was about the location at which he was currently employed, but now he had a year.

After twenty minutes of sifting through story after story, a small article from the winter of 1980 looked promising.

_**Freddy's Shuts its Doors **_was the articles title.

_The local successful pizzeria Freddy Fazbear's Pizza unexpectedly shut its doors yesterday following a police investigation. No details were made public as the owning company, Animatronics Limited's, requested privacy, but some sources speculate that a recent discovery of bodies may point to some sort of serial killer. As a result, many ask that the restaurant, located at 38 West Park Road, be left undeveloped. The company has expressed interest in possibly opening a new location, but the bad publicity from this event surely leaves the name Animatronics Limited in a negative light._

"38 West Park Road!" Mike said in triumph, and quickly wrote it down on a "borrowed" piece of paper. The adrenaline of success began to wind down, and Mike yawned, deciding to get some sleep at home before his shift started.

The bus ride to his apartment was uneventful, just the usual sort of folks you would find on a city bus, both the normal commuters and "bus people." The route he used was the same as the one used from Freddy's to home, so he happened to stop in front of the center the pizzeria was in. There appeared to be more cars in the parking lot than normal.

_No doubt because of that article. Any publicity is good publicity, I guess,_ Mike thought.

Despite its status as a tabloid, the article had been steadily rising in popularity both due to its local appeal and the restaurant's prominent status in urban folklore. People were most likely going to see the "evil" robots for themselves, and were no doubt disappointed at Freddy, Bonnie, and Chica's performance in their show, singing aged songs for what had to be the trillionth time. Which begged another question: How could they stand to do that every day for nearly 20 years?

_Well, they are machines,_ Mike answered himself, _And they probably don't complain, since it's all they know._

Mike decided to ask them when he started his shift, and the bus stopped in front of his apartment complex. The guard disembarked and climbed the stairs towards his apartment. He was surprised to see Lindsay sitting by his door. She looked up.

"Hi Mike," she greeted.

"Er, hi Lindsay," Mike greeted back awkwardly.

They might practically be neighbors, but due to Mike's work schedule, never really interacted. She seemed to avoid him anyway, him being practically a stranger and all, but they did know each other's names.

"What's up? You're sorta in front of my door," Mike pointed out.

"I'm waiting for Foxy. He hasn't been around in a while, and I've been in school anyway, but now I don't know where he is," Lindsay explained, "I figured I'd wait for him here."

Mike frowned. Foxy never went back to Mike's apartment after being kidnapped by that henchwoman of Trout's, and it had been days since everything settled down. He crouched to her level.

"Foxy went home, he doesn't stay here anymore," Mike explained.

"Back to Freddy's?" Lindsay asked.

"Yup. He told you all about it, huh?"

"Yeah, he told me all about Freddy, Bonnie, Chica, you, Pirate's Cove, his ship, his stories, all that stuff," Lindsay confirmed, "Do you think I can visit him?"

Mike nodded.

"I'm sure you can. Wait, Foxy's locked up during the day and the Cove is closed…" Mike began working things out in his head, saying them aloud, "Midnight's way too late, and they go back at six… Crap, I don't think there's a way you can visit Foxy."

Lindsay looked down sadly.

"Okay," she said simply, and turned to walk back towards her apartment.

Mike watched her go, feeling terrible. He stood up.

"Wait!" he said, and Lindsay turned back, eyes watering slightly, "I'll try and work something out. Maybe there could be a way, I'll have to talk to Nathan."

"Who?" Lindsay asked.

"Friend of mine. I'll talk to you later, okay? Promise, I'll see if I can arrange a visit. He really seemed to like you, huh?" Mike asked.

"Yeah, we were friends," Lindsay replied, and walked into her apartment.

Mike watched her go before heading into his own home. His phone's voicemail light blinked, and he hit the button to play them.

"_You have… two… new messages. First new message,_" the voicemail machine said.

"_Mikey? It's mom, I read an article about Freddy's where they interviewed a night guard. You're okay, right? I mean, nobody's bothering you? I remember back when Mrs. Toby had that rumor going around, and she wasn't left alone for a month! I'm sure you're okay, and we both love you. Stay safe, Mikey, and tell Bonnie I said hello_!" Mrs. Schmidt finished her message and hung up.

_Thanks Mom, will do,_ Mike thought to himself, and waited for the second message to play.

"_Next new message,_" the machine said.

"_Schmidt? It's Arianna. If you're planning on ditching work to explore that new place, hold off until after tomorrow. I have a special guest coming over, and I need you to keep your friends in check. Unless negotiations fail. We'll talk more about the other location later, but fill the animatronics in on what's going down tomorrow night, alright? And come in to work at 11:20 then as well," _Arianna finished her message bluntly. Mike sighed.

_Maybe her finding out about their sentience wasn't the greatest thing to happen,_ Mike thought, and laid down on his bed, closing his eyes.

* * *

That night, as Mike started his shift at the new Freddy Fazbear's, Marion rose out of his gift box "home" at the other, watching the other animatronics from the Prize Corner.

While Marion couldn't make the comparison, the other animatronics were not nearly as developed as the other Freddy, Bonnie, and Chica. They didn't have distinct characters when they were activated, and didn't get the same amount of social interaction in order to have personalities build. What resulted was that each animatronic had the same general characteristic of being an almost obnoxious level of friendly and welcoming, but over time had taken it to different extremes.

With Bonnie, for instance, he adored meeting new people, going in the extreme direction of friendliness. Freddy remained almost like the day he was activated, with a small amount of pride in taking leadership, even though he listened to what Marion said.

Chica was more aloof, almost possibly being described as "stupid," but in reality she just didn't care about mistakes or getting things wrong. Mangle, having been isolated from the others in Kid's Cove and torn apart over and over every day for a month, had simultaneously developed an intense curiosity on what was outside the Cove and a fear of small children (which hardly sprung up anymore). She hadn't always been named Mangle, nor had she always been reduced to the state of disrepair that she lay in now, but time let the name stick and her already damaged parts decay further. Balloon Boy gained an immense optimism, finding the good in everything even if he had to make it up. Probably from the joy he caused through selling his many balloons. Life was never sad or bad when all you did was make kids happy with helium.

The animatronics barely remembered what life was like back when the pizzeria was open, having such a short time in the limelight before tragedy struck anyway, their decades old programming still in full function.

Take tonight, for instance. The quiet that occurred made them restless, wanting to look for someone to perform to or interact with. It didn't matter too much during the day, when they charged and didn't care anyway, but at night it could be maddening. Which is why Marion used his music box, which had lain next to his gift box since the place was open. Back in the day, the night guard used it when the others roamed around to keep them pacified, and it served much the same function today.

Marion wound the box up tightly, an impressive feat considering he didn't have functional hands. Music began to drift out, and looking out into the Dining Area he saw the animatronics in there relax and wander over, attracted by the noise. Bonnie spotted Marion out of his box.

"Hi Marion!" he greeted in his usual jovial way, "I love the music, it's really rocking!"

Marion chuckled.

"I'm sure it is, Bon," he replied. This exchange happened nearly every night the box was wound.

"Why don't you go off and play with Mangle? She's usually really lonely over in Kid's Cove," Marion then suggested. Bonnie nodded.

"Okay! Good idea!" he said, then turned and strode over to Kid's Cove, carrying his prized guitar.

Bonnie pushed the door to Kid's Cove open and walked inside, finding Mangle lying in a heap in her corner as usual. Her eyes lit up and tracked him as he entered. Bonnie waved.

"Hiya Mangle! Want to play something?" Bonnie asked.

Mangle nodded and raised herself up onto her forearms.

"_Zzzxxyrrtlightzzxxyertlight_?" she asked, tilting her actual head to the left.

Bonnie put a paw to his chin.

"No, no, we played Red Light Green Light yesterday, anything else?" he asked.

Mangle put a claw to her chin as well.

"_Byzrt?_"

"Tag's boring."

"_Bxxzzyrtk_?"

"Marion says we'll hurt ourselves with that."

Mangle thought harder.

"_Tyxxxrandsseyrrt?_" she suggested.

"Yeah! Hide and seek! Good idea! Want to hide first?" Bonnie asked.

"_Yessszyrt_" Mangle replied.

"Okay, I'll count to twenty!" Bonnie announced, and walked to stand in a corner of the room.

Mangle quickly scaled up to the ceiling and clambered as fast as she could for her favorite hiding spot.

"One, two, three, four…" Bonnie counted as loud as his voicebox could amplify in order to make sure Mangle heard him.

Mangle climbed over the doorway to Kid's Cove and set herself towards one of the Party Rooms, simply named "Party Room One."

"…Nine, ten, eleven…" Bonnie's voice echoed through the empty restaurant. Mangle picked up the pace, occasionally losing her grip and nearly falling to the floor in her haste. She passed through both Party Room One and its neighbor Party Room Two, and crawled down the wall and into the Air Vent that sat in a corner of the room, right underneath a security camera.

"…Nineteen, twenty!" Bonnie announced, and began searching around.

Mangle remained scrunched up in the Vent, staring at the security camera mounted where the Vent turned a corner to feed into the Security Office. She poked at it curiously, noticing the large light connected to it. The memory was incomplete, but she was pretty sure she liked to hide in here after hours when the pizzeria was closed, and scaring the crap out of the night guard in the process. That had been back when she still had most of her suit, could walk upright, and had a different name than "Mangle." But she couldn't remember what it was. Everyone called her by her nickname, even Marion, and the name recognition for any other name had been overwritten long ago.

After a few minutes sitting inside the vent, Mangle could make out footsteps coming closer and closer.

"Mangle? Where'd you go? Wow, you're really good at this!" Bonnie said as he searched throughout Party Room One. Mangle remained quiet, grinning in triumph. Bonnie was just about to move on to the next party room, when Freddy suddenly called out, usually jolly tone gone from his voice.

"Hey! Get away from the children!" he roared. Bonnie and Mangle froze, and the battered animatronic heard Bonnie's footsteps rapidly fade away. Mangle crawled out into the Security Office and clambered onto the ceiling as quickly as she could, tearing up a faded poster and knocking things off of the old dusty desk that sat in the center.

* * *

Crawling out into the Dining Hall, she found Freddy staring intently out of one of the windows, Bonnie and Chica next to him. Balloon Boy watched from a distance, straining to see over the much taller animal animatronics.

"What? What's goin' on?" he asked.

"It's him," Freddy said simply, eyes replaced with white pinpricks as the facial recognition software kicked in. Bonnie and Chica also stared with laser-like focus and intensity, and as Mangle found what they were staring at, she did the same.

Outside was a man, a simple homeless man who took shelter from a sudden occurrence of rain underneath the restaurant's faded awning. All outside signage indicating what the building used to be had been taken down, but the happy paint job (now faded dull by the Sun and rain) and certain features remained. The windows had always been heavily tinted to keep outside light from messing with show lighting and the animatronics optics, and the building had been soundproofed to a certain degree to keep outside noise at a minimum. The entire process had been done to ensure stepping into Freddy Fazbear's meant stepping out of reality and into a fantastical world for kids and adults alike. Now it was just incredibly inconvenient for the animatronics.

Freddy's demand had fallen on deaf ears, his voice not carrying through the walls from where he shouted it when he had first seen the man. Mangle's voice box let out a piercing, static filled screech as she shouted the same warning. To them, this poor man was most definitely a predator, his face coming up as a false positive to the animatronics' damaged face recognition, modified by the serial killer back in 1980. Thankfully, he hadn't tried to get into the pizza to harm the non-existent children (yet), but that didn't stop the animatronics from trying to get him to leave just the same. Chica tried to ram through the door, shaking it in its frame, but the lock held.

The man jumped at the bang and stared wide-eyed at the still moving door. Curious, he put a hand over his eyes and attempted to stare in, trying to block out light from street lamps and see inside the darkened pizzeria.

Bonnie wanted nothing of this, and lunged at him, screeching another warning. The man jumped back as Bonnie slammed into the window, sending a spider-web of cracks across the glass, which somehow held. That was enough motivation for the man, and he ran away, stumbling over himself and screaming at the top of his lungs.

The "threat" now gone, the animatronics' eyes reverted back to normal, facial recognition programming deactivating, and continued on with their night as if nothing happened. Bonnie turned to Mangle.

"Sorry that interrupted our game, Mangle! I'll count again!" Bonnie said, happy once more. Freddy, Chica, and BB walked up to them.

"What are we playing? Can I play? Please?" BB asked, bouncing slightly.

"Sure!" Bonnie said, "We can all play, it'll be _great!_"

"_Xxxzyyrrt!_" Mangle agreed.

"Alright, you guys go hide, I gotta count! One, two, three, four…" Bonnie covered his face with his paws and began belting out numbers. The others dashed away, searching for the perfect hiding spot.

* * *

_**A/N: Hey hey, people that read this story! Welcome to the end of Chapter Two! It's a little bit shorter than the previous ones, and for that I do apologize, but we're getting ready to start some serious Rising Action up in here, so I needed to cut this one down. **_

_**Now, to explain the animatronics from FNaF 2's actions: In my universe, the serial killer tampered with the animatronic's facial recognition as hinted at by Phone Guy in-game, and as a result, damaged it to the point where many innocent people show up as false positives, such as Jeremy Fitzgerald, Fritz Smith, and that poor homeless man. Note that it's not that EVERYONE shows up as a false positive. In the case of the people who broke in last chapter (who were urban explorers, not thieves as some people thought), they didn't trigger a false positive, quite possibly due to their (relatively) young age, as the false alarms are (in my universe) more frequent with older adults. When a false (or true) positive is triggered, it becomes the number one priority of the animatronics to get the flagged individual away from the pizzeria as soon as possible, no matter what methods are used. Violence ensues. **_

_**Hope that clears things up, as this is one major plot point I wanted to handle the instant it is introduced. Also, many people seem to think I'm hinting at Phone Guy being the Purple Guy (a la the Christmas Special), but think about it a little bit: does a man that is willing to play Santa for sad robots sound like the kind of guy that would brutally murder kids? Not to me, it doesn't. **_

_**Alright, that's it for me. Thanks for reading and reviewing if you happen to decide to do that. Hope you all had a wonderful Christmas or whatever holiday you celebrated. I'm going to get SMASHED on New Years. Yup, all that Mountain Dew, both green and red. Have a good one!**_

_**-DeltaV "Doin' the Dew until I spew." **_


	4. Chapter Three

_**ADVISORY: This chapter contains (fake) gore, (staged) violence, and the animatronics acting as demonic manifestations of evil. You have been warned. **_

Chapter Three: We Scare Because We Care

Night guard Mike Schmidt and the four animatronic mascots of Freddy Fazbear's pizzeria gathered on the Show Stage, Mike having called the animatronics together to explain Arianna's plan.

"Alright here's the skinny: Arianna, our _wonderful_ boss, has arranged to meet the guy that wrote that article here tomorrow night at 11:30," Mike began. Chica raised her hand and was about to speak before he cut her off.

"I know what that means, I'm sure that's what she wanted. I don't know the basics, but she said to keep you guys in check while she dealt with this guy unless, and I quote, 'negotiations fail'," Mike continued, "Sounds like you're basically going to listen to her. I haven't the faintest idea what she wants to do, and I'm sure I'm in on it as well."

As the guard finished, Chica immediately raised her hand.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, why is this suddenly our problem?" Chica asked.

"Because Arianna pays me and keeps you guys turned on," Mike replied, "I'm not happy you're an interrogation tool either, but we gotta do what we gotta do."

Freddy spoke up.

"I assume we'll be using the rumors of our past… transgressions to assist in this?" he asked.

"Probably."

"If I had to guess, we would either remain in show positions for the duration or pretend to be the violent killers everybody now thinks we are," Freddy surmised.

Mike rubbed his neck and sighed.

"Yeah, that sounds about right, unfortunately," Mike agreed, "If word about your sentience gets out, we could be in more trouble than we usually are. I just wish she told me what the damn plan was!"

As Mike finished his outburst, the sound of the main entrance being unlocked and opening was heard, and the guard drew his flashlight to investigate. He motioned for the animatronics to get back into position and keep quiet, and cautiously crept forward, sticking to the wall. He rounded the corner with his flashlight raised, illuminating the irritated face of Arianna, who carried a large bag. Mike snapped the flashlight off.

"Well done, _solider,_" Arianna spat, rubbing her eyes, "Who the hell else has keys to the front?"

"Sorry _boss_," Mike retorted, "We don't get visitors very often, and when we do, it's messy."

Arianna snorted and continued to the Dining Hall, sitting at one of the tables. She quirked an eyebrow at the frozen Fazbear trio.

"What's up with them?" she asked, jerking a thumb in their direction.

"Keeping a low profile," Mike explained, then turned to the animatronics, "It's cool, guys, it's just Arianna."

The sound of squeaky mechanical joints sounded as Freddy and the others got out of position and stepped off the stage. Clanking footsteps signaled Foxy reentering the Dining Hall. He gave a salute to Arianna.

"Ahoy, ma'am, wha' do ye need?" Foxy asked, curious as to why she was here.

Arianna yawned, not used to being up this late.

"I decided to give you guys the lowdown on tomorrow night. Ready to put on a show?" she asked with a mischievous smile.

"Of course boss, whatever you need," Bonnie replied. Chica nodded.

"Yup, you're in charge," Chica agreed.

"We'll do our best," Freddy replied, "Although I do want to say that I'm not entirely happy being used as intimidation."

"Noted," Arianna said, "Now here's the deal: I need to get the name of who squealed so I can start cleaning this whole tabloid thing up. Schmidt probably told you already, but I'm meeting this guy tomorrow night. Story is that I'm going to give him extra dirt. In reality, I'm locking his ass in here and not letting him leave 'till he talks."

"Isn't that illegal?" Mike asked.

"Not if we don't get caught, the restaurant's private property and he'll come here of his own free will," Arianna countered, "Now, he probably won't talk under normal circumstance, so we're going to setup an elaborate act. Good news Schmidt, you get to be the hero. Bad news: You're going to get 'killed' trying to save the day."

"Figures," Mike said. Chica rolled her eyes.

"Wuss," she replied.

"I need you guys to prepare a suit with a fake corpse in it in advance. That's where this shit comes in," Arianna dumped the bag's contents onto the table. Apparently the manager had stopped by the prop store on the other side of town and picked up a few things, including a massive bottle of fake blood, fake severed limbs, and other horrific objects. Bonnie's eyes widened in surprise and Mike grimaced.

"Isn't that a little excessive?" Mike asked, "I mean we are talking about a tabloid here."

"A _popular_ tabloid, Mikey," Arianna countered, "And besides, go big or go home, right?"

Foxy picked up a fake severed leg and turned it around, studying it.

"Wha' are we 'sposed ta do wit' these?" he asked

Arianna shrugged.

"I don't know, pretend to eat it or something. You're supposed to be psychopathic killers, use your imagination," she replied. Bonnie fidgeted.

"I'm not so sure about this. I'm not really comfortable being scary," she said, "I mean, things are different now, and this just brings all that bad stuff back."

Arianna looked up, a kinder expression on her face.

"Hey, hey, it's all fake," she assured, "And this guy's a creep, he completely deserves it."

Mike smirked, surprised Arianna was almost kind.

"Well, I'm not happy about dying," Mike said. Arianna's expression hardened as she turned to face the guard.

"Grow a pair, you've been through worse," she replied. Mike frowned.

Freddy imitated clearing his throat, sounding more like a static-filled gargle.

"Alright, we'll do it, but to protect the pizzeria," Freddy said solemnly, "But I'd like something in return."

Arianna frowned.

"That depends. What is it?" she asked, concerned over what the bear would want.

"Open up tha Cove," Foxy said.

Arianna shook her head.

"Can't. Part of the lawsuit settlement regarding The Bite forbade us from opening the Cove up again," Arianna explained, "I've actually asked twice."

Freddy stepped forward.

"What we would actually like is the removal of the locking up program between six and midnight," Freddy said.

Arianna thought it over, drumming her fingers on the table.

"I don't see why not," she finally agreed, "I'll see if I can get that Nathan guy to help you out. Hope he'll do it for free. But, I expect no walking around during business hours, got it? And you better charge yourselves. The walking around goes double for you, Foxy."

The animatronics all nodded in understanding, smiling widely at the news and talking among themselves excitedly. Arianna snapped her fingers to bring their attention back.

"Glad you're excited, now let's focus on your end of the bargain. Get set up to be scary tomorrow night, then after we'll see about getting the lockdown removed. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm fucking tired. Good night," with that, Arianna stood up, leaving her assortment of gruesome props on the table, and headed out of the main entrance. The animatronics and Mike could hear the door open, shut, and lock.

Mike picked up a fake severed hand, tossing it into the air and watching it land on the table with a smack.

"It's like we're making a damn haunted house in here," he observed.

"The mess is going to irritate me to no end, I can already tell," Freddy said, and grabbed the bag, "Well, best get on with this." He and the other animatronics looked at Mike expectantly.

"What?" the guard asked.

"You're a night guard, and we tried to put you in a suit. How did you think we would act?" Freddy asked.

Mike looked at each animatronic, and ran a hand through his air, blowing air out through his lips, looking at the floor. He looked back up at Foxy.

"You're going to get messy, bud. Sorry," Mike said, picking up the giant bottle of fake blood as the fox returned a confused look.

* * *

Preparation took the rest of the night. Foxy wasn't happy his freshly clean suit was already ruined, and complained constantly as the guard splashed fake blood all over, focusing especially on his hook arm, mouth, and front. The sight of the red liquid dripping from Foxy's fur was already bad enough, but it certainly didn't help Mike's nerve to have him glare the entire time.

Meanwhile, Freddy and Bonnie set upon the grim task of preparing a fake stuffed suit, grabbing some of the fake body parts and the fake blood bottle. Freddy looked down unhappily. They had decided upon a Freddy costume, since it seemed the most appropriate, and upon hearing the man Mike called "Phone Guy's" explanation stuck fake eyeballs just outside of the eye sockets. Unfortunately the only teeth they had belonged to their endoskeletons, and didn't come off, so accuracy was lost in that regard. A quick splash of fake blood and the look was complete.

Rather disturbingly, Chica seemed to have quite a few ideas on how to scare the writer of the article, taking a morbid delight in causing terror. Foxy was just as enthusiastic, seeing it as repayment for the dirtying of his suit. Their brainstorming session had been… interesting.

"Do you think we could pretend to rip an arm off?" Chica suggested.

"No, no, tha'd be hard ta fake," Foxy replied, pushing up his now reddened jaw with his hook.

"What about you stab him with your hook?" Chica offered.

"Wha' if I miss?" Foxy countered.

"Bite him?"

"Don' be remindin' me o' tha'!"

"What the hell is wrong with you!? You do realize you're basically plotting my death, right?" Mike pointed out, disgusted. Chica shrugged.

"You heard what the boss said, 'go big or go home'," Chica replied. Mike sighed in exasperation and walked off.

"I thought you guys entertained kids," he muttered. Chica and Foxy shared a look.

"He's got a point. We're kinda messed up," Chica admitted.

"Tha's no' a bad thing," Foxy replied.

Mike, meanwhile, shared this concern with Freddy.

"Alright, so, Foxy I get, he's always been a little psycho from being shut away but _Chica_?" Mike asked, "When did _that_ start?"

"Don't worry about her, she just enjoys having fun at other people's expense. It's like a big practical joke to her," Freddy explained, hoping to keep Mike focused, "I'm not happy about this either, but I do have to admit she's had some interesting ideas. Foxy too."

"About how to _kill me_," Mike reminded. Freddy imitated a sigh.

"We've already covered this Michael, we're not going to actually kill someone anymore. No one is truly happy about this ruse, not even Chica and Foxy. And as horrible as it is to say this, we do have experience. Let's just get this over with," Freddy said finitely.

After a short pause, Mike nodded.

"Alright, alright, just make it quick," Mike grumbled.

"That's the point, isn't it?" Freddy asked with a grin.

"_Freddy!_"

* * *

Mike arrived at work at 11:00, finding Arianna already there and kicking out the janitor.

"Take the night off, Bill, I have important business to do," Arianna said. The older man nodded and waved a hand.

"Just let me check Pirate's Cove and I'll be out of your way," Bill said, pulling out his flashlight.

"Wait!" Mike shouted, remembering Foxy's "makeover", but was too light as the janitor stepped through the curtain.

Bill screamed and ran out of Pirate's Cove straight into Mike, who stopped his retreat.

"He's covered in blood! He's covered in blood!" Bill shouted hysterically. Mike tried to calm him down.

"Relax, it's okay, it's fake. We're thinking of making it into a haunted house and talking it over with the company tonight," Mike lied, "Just go on home, it's not real."

Bill took several deep breaths to calm himself, holding a hand over his heart.

"Oh Jesus, oh!" he gasped, "Warn me next time." The janitor quickly gathered his belongings and left the restaurant.

Arianna looked at Mike.

"Well, looks like you pulled through for me. What's the act?" Arianna asked. Mike sighed and began to explain what would happen.

The basic premise was that the interview would run long, and Mike would "arrive" for his shift mere minutes before midnight. At that point, Freddy, Bonnie and Chica would begin their bit, chasing the three of them into the Security Office where Mike would lock it down, to which the animatronics would leave. Mike would them attempt a big damn heroes moment to escort them to the entrance before getting grabbed en route, "stuffed," where then the fake filled suit and fearsome Foxy would be used as the final blow to get the author to spill the source, where then he would be allowed to leave as long as he never talked about what happened. Whether or not Arianna would be "killed" as well would depend on how the night progressed.

At least, that was the plan, but knowing their previous luck, Mike was fairly confident there would be quite a lot of improvisation heading his way.

* * *

Mike hid Backstage, staring at the faked stuff suit. The fake limbs had been used to make the suit appear filled out, and had actually been cut apart by the many wires and crossbars, further confirming Phone Guy's explanation. The guard checked his watch, reading "11:33" in the backlit numbers. The author was running late, it seemed.

A few more minutes passed, and Mike began pacing in the small room, looking at a spare Chica head which gave an eyeless stare in return, mouth set in a smug smirk.

"What the hell's keeping him?" Mike asked the head. It didn't reply, but seemed to take silent delight in Mike's frustration, just like the actual Chica. Arianna's voice rang out through the restaurant.

"Of course this asshole is _late_!" she complained.

Finally, at 11:45, the author could be heard pounding on the door.

Arianna got up, stowing her frustration and putting on a fake smile.

"Billy, glad you were able to make it," she welcomed, opening up the main entrance.

"I'm sorry I'm late, had another story I was chasing," Wilbur replied, a smug smile on his face.

Arianna blinked and her smile wavered.

"No worries, we don't open until six, and I'm sure we have _plenty_ of time to talk," Arianna said, and gestured to a table in the Dining Hall. The Show Stage curtains were lowered. Wilbur sat, and Arianna quickly walked back and locked the doors again. Wilbur looked at her questioningly.

"Just a precaution. There are some things here we don't want… _escaping_, if you catch my meaning," Arianna replied, throwing a glance at the Show Stage. Wilbur gulped.

"Are you s-sure we should be here?" he asked, casting a fearful glance of his own at the stage. Arianna waved her hand dismissively.

"Relax, we disconnected their power supplies today, they won't do anything," Arianna assured, grinning slightly at the lie.

"Alright…" Wilbur said, and pulled out a notepad, flicking through it, "Now, let's see, who are you _exactly_ and what do you do here?"

Arianna sat down, clasping her hands on the table in front of her.

"My name is Arianna, and I'm the full-time manager-slash-supervisor-slash-operator of this establishment," Arianna answered. Wilbur nodded.

"I see… Tell me, what kind of things have you seen here?" he asked. Arianna smiled.

"You won't believe the shit I've seen. Compared to… what was that guard's name?" Arianna hinted.

"He didn't give his name," Wilbur replied smoothly.

"Right, well, compared to Mr. Anonymous I've seen more than my fair share of the robot's… leavings," Arianna answered cryptically.

Wilbur inched his chair closer to the table, casting a nervous glance around the darkened restaurant.

"What do you mean by 'leavings'?" he pressed.

Arianna leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms.

"The usual sort of thing, blood, corpses, body parts, eyeballs, pentagrams, references to Bible verses written in blood, and a _whole lot_ of the words 'It's Me'," Arianna answered casually, as if listing things sitting on the table in front of her.

Wilbur blinked and swallowed, eyes widening at the grotesque list.

"Jesus…" he said.

"Oh yeah, about him. These guys?" Arianna crooked a thumb towards the stage, "Not exactly fans."

"So you're saying they're possessed by _demons_?" Wilbur asked, pencil tensed over the notepad.

Arianna shrugged.

"Or some shit like that. Thought about hiring a priest or something, but you know how that song and dance goes," Arianna said.

Wilbur scribbled furiously on his notepad.

"This is gold!" he exclaimed, "Has anyone tried to fight these things?"

Arianna scoffed.

"Would _you_?" she asked, "These things are seven foot tall robotic animals that delight in slaughtering people. Nah, we just try and deal."

"Why do you think they attack?"

"Probably pissed at being stuck as an animatronic for all eternity, singing those crappy songs over and over, dealing with bratty kids. Wears even the most sane humans down," Arianna replied.

Wilbur nodded in understanding.

"Now my night guard contact mentioned a fourth animatronic?" Wilbur asked, pencil at the ready.

Arianna faked a pause, eyes wide.

"Oh… You're talking about Foxy," Arianna said, dropping her voice into a near-whisper.

Wilbur looked confused.

"'Foxy?' Who's Foxy?" he asked.

Arianna straightened.

"He's the worst of them all. Out of all of those things, he's the only one who killed someone during the day, back in 1987, practically tore that kid's head off!" Arianna related, like she was telling a scary story around a campfire.

Wilbur gasped.

"It was a _kid?_" he asked.

"That's why that area's curtained-off. He's supposed to be shut down, but every night…" Arianna tapered off, taking delight as Wilbur hung on her every word. She was about to continue, when suddenly the clocked chimed midnight, the slow dings echoing through the empty halls. Showtime.

* * *

The chime was Mike's cue, and he quickly walked into the Dining Hall before "noticing" Arianna and Wilbur.

"Hey! What the hell are you guys doing in here! It's not safe, quick, they're going to wake up soon," Mike said, walking over and grabbing Wilbur's arm. The surprised man looked this way and that.

"Wait, what? Awake? How?" he spluttered.

A mechanical screeched indicated the start of the main event, as the curtains raised up "by themselves", Foxy having snuck out to work the crank ("Hoist tha mainsail, lads!"), and Chica stared at the group from onstage, beak opened wide enough to expose her endoskeleton's teeth.

"Oh _look_ everyone! New _guests_!" she said, voice heavy with static and dropping an octave at each emphasized word. Bonnie let out an imitation of a feminine giggle which quickly dropped into a demonic laugh as she slowed the laugh down. The rabbit's red eyes burned brightly in the low light.

"Let's go say hello!" Bonnie said, smiling maniacally. The duo stepped offstage and took slow, menacing steps towards the group. Time for Phase Two.

* * *

"Move! Follow me!" Mike ordered, and sprinted towards the Security Office. Freddy let out his signature evil laugh he had used on Mike's first week, and it echoed down the hallway after them.

"Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, holy _shit_!" Wilbur cursed over and over, stumbling as he tried to keep up. Arianna chuckled to herself.

The three people piled into the office, and Mike quickly picked up the tablet. Wilbur looked at the doors questioningly.

"Aren't you going to close these things?" he asked.

"Only when they get close," Mike replied, "We don't have much power to work with, and when the lights go out…"

"…So do we," Arianna finished.

Mike thrust the tablet into Wilbur's hands.

"Take this, keep an eye on them," Mike ordered.

Wilbur looked at the tablet in utter confusion.

"What? How am I going to- _oh my God!_" Wilbur's statement ended in a scream as he pointed at the right door. Chica stood in it, gnashing her teeth. Mike reached over and punched the button, heavy door slamming shut with a clang. Chica slammed herself against the window and screeched.

"Fuck off!" Mike yelled, getting into his "action hero" persona. Chica broke character slightly with a bemused smirk, but quickly fell back in before Wilbur noticed and seemed to almost disappear from sight as she stalked back into the hall. Her static-filled voice echoed down.

"_Name…_" she moaned. Arianna turned to Wilbur.

"What's the name of the night guard you talked to?" she asked.

"What?" he asked, stunned.

"Name, the goddamn name! That's what they want!" Arianna repeated, feigning panic.

Mike reached over and punched the left door button, "stopping" an incredibly frightening Bonnie from getting into the office. Eventually she walked away, and Mike yanked the tablet from Wilbur's hands.

"I'm going to check things out, see if we can get you guys out," Mike explained, flicking from camera to camera. He could see Chica hanging out in the Dining Hall, staring into the camera expectantly. Bonnie, Freddy, and Foxy soon joined her. Mike switched to the camera quickly three times, blinking the red LED mounted on the camera. The animatronics nodded in unison. Time for Phase Three.

* * *

Arianna was starting to sympathize with what Mike had gone through. The guard did explain that this was an exaggeration, and that the animatronics weren't nearly this over the top since they weren't really evil, but the threat of death wasn't faked. As much as she hated to admit it, the manager started to have a respect for the relationship Mike and the robots shared.

Mike put down the tablet.

"Alright, here's the plan. We stay here, we're dead. I'm going to run out and unlock the entrance. You," Mike pointed to Wilbur, "Keep an eye on the Dining Hall camera. I'll signal you when the coast is clear, then you both run like hell."

Wilbur nodded shakily and took the tablet in trembling hands. Mike pulled out his keys.

"I'll be back," Mike said, taking off towards the entrance. Arianna mentally groaned at the one liner, then turned her attention to the tablet.

After a few moments, Mike could be seen in the Dining Hall, waving his arms like mad as Chica snuck up from behind. She grabbed Mike by the neck, lifting him up off the ground without actually putting any pressure. The guard grasped at the yellow hand and began kicking his feet, hoarse scream ringing across the restaurant.

_Holy shit,_ Arianna thought, _Man's got a pair of lungs on him._ Chica let out a loud cackle.

"Got one! Let's get to stuffing!" she announced loudly. Wilbur whimpered. Arianna grabbed the camera tablet and forced the perspective, watching Mike get carried into the Backstage, seeing Foxy follow after words.

"I wan' ta stuff this one!" he said loudly, gruff voice made even worse by filling it with more static than normal. The door shut, but Arianna didn't switch to the Backstage.

Suddenly, Mike let out a shrill, pained scream that sounded so real Arianna had to fight the urge to run and make sure he wasn't getting stuffed for real.

"Holy shit," she muttered, more at the power of the scream than the guard's "death."

* * *

Mike coughed.

"Holy shit," he said, clutching his throat, "That hurt like a son of a bitch."

Foxy gave a wide smile, yellow eyes glowing with glee.

"I haven' had this much fun since me crew was wit' me!" he said, happily letting Mike splash more fake blood onto him so the fox would drip.

"That's what scares me, bud," Mike said, dumping the rest of the contents into the faked stuff suit. Foxy picked it up and slung it over a shoulder, spearing a fake disembodied leg with his hook and holding it like a hot dog on a stick.

"Time ta ge' tha' lubber!" Foxy cheered, and pushed through the door.

The fox strode purposefully down the hall, past Pirate's Cove. Bonnie walked past, carrying a struggling Arianna. The two robots exchanged knowing glances, and passed each other, Arianna keeping up a constant racket all the way to Backstage.

The door was predictably closed, and Wilbur sat curled up in the fetal position on the floor, whimpering to himself. Foxy tapped on the window, leaving a bit of fake blood, and smiled widely when Wilbur looked up and shrieked.

Foxy punctuated his creepiness by tossing the suit at the window, back first, allowing a large amount of fake blood to splatter across the glass and leave a streak as it slid to the floor.

"It's _ME!_" Foxy screeched, and bit a massive chunk out of the fake leg on his hook, chomping the rubber limb to bits in seconds and tossing the rest away. He began to laugh maniacally and pound on the door.

Wilbur screamed and Foxy laughed louder.

"I hope you be preparin' yerself mate, 'cause ye ain't 'bout ta leave her alive!" Foxy roared, pounding harder on the door.

"No!" Wilbur screamed. Chica approached the closed door on the other side and began pounding on it as well.

"What was the name of the security guard you talked to! We want _revenge!_" Chica screeched.

"Ahh!" Wilbur screamed, and fell to his knees. "Please! _Please!_ Don't kill me!"

Foxy and Chica kept up their pounding and laughing.

"Give us the name, and you can walk away!" Chica said.

Wilbur started sobbing as the pounding, laughing, and screeching continued.

"Name, lad, we need. Tha. _Name!_" Foxy roared from his side, punctuating each word with a massive slam on the door.

"Smith!" Wilbur finally forced out, "Fritz Smith! Oh God, oh God, please let me go!"

Foxy and Chica stopped, moving to stare at him from the windows, grinning in triumph. Wilbur looked up as the noise ceased.

"Open the door," Chica ordered. After a lengthy paused, Wilbur reached a shaking hand towards the right door release. Chica shook her head.

"No, no, the _left_ door," she said. Foxy cackled from the other side of said door.

Wilbur eyes darted from Chica, the fake blood on the left window, and the door button, before finally hitting hit and bracing himself. Foxy stood over him, and put his good hand on his shoulder. Wilbur flinched.

"Now tha' don' be so hard, now be it?" Foxy asked in a low voice, and began escorting the man to the door. He kept casting terrified glances up at the fox, looking away every time Foxy looked down and locked eyes. They stopped in front of the unlocked entrance. Foxy pushed him towards it.

"As promised," the fox said, "And don' tell a soul wha' ye saw here. We _will_ find ou', and we _will _find ye."

Wilbur nodded furiously and bolted for his car, leaving skid marks in the parking lot as he raced away. As soon as the car vanished from sight, Foxy let out another, normal laugh.

"Ah-har-har-har! Did ye see tha look on his face?" Foxy asked, turning to where Chica walked up next to him. She laughed as well.

"Totally! Oh man, when he started _crying_," Chica laughed again. Arianna walked in from Backstage, slowly clapping her hands.

"Holy shit guys, you really out did yourselves!" she praised. Foxy and Chica took a bow. Bonnie joined them, a guilty look on her face.

"I think we took it a little bit too far…" she said, wringing her paws. Freddy and Mike followed her.

"I hope you're satisfied, and will keep up your end of the bargain," Freddy said bitterly. Arianna yawned, nodding.

"I'll call Nathan in the morning. Don't worry about the mess, I'll get our crew on it," she said, and walked out the entrance, casting another approving glance at the animatronics.

"You guys did great, good night!" she said, and walked to her car, pulling out of the parking lot and driving away.

Bonnie sat on the floor.

"I feel terrible. He was so scared," she said. Chica imitated a _pffft._

"Please, that guy was a total loser and told lies about us," she countered.

"But are they lies? Didn't we just do what he wrote about?" Bonnie asked. Freddy nodded.

"I'm not happy about this, there had to have been a better way," he said. Mike reached up and patted the bear on the arm.

"Our hands were tied, we had to do what she wanted. Let's just call it a night, alright? My throat's killing me," Mike said. The animatronics all nodded and headed back towards their show positions. Bonnie stopped and hugged Mike, clinging to him like he was an older sibling.

"I hate attacking people," she said. Mike returned it.

"I know, Bon, I know. It won't happen again, I promise," he assured, "Now go get in place, and I'll shut you down for real. Sleep it off."

"Okay," Bonnie said, and the two of them walked towards the Show Stage.

_**A/N: All sappiness in the ending aside, I actually LOVED writing this chapter. Unlike Bonnie, I really enjoy making the robots scary just as much as I enjoy making them fun and nice. At least this time it was all fake, but poor Wilbur's definitely going to need some therapy. And a hug. I agree with Mike, Freddy, and Bonnie, they really did take it too far, but it was a blast to write, and a necessary evil as far as I'm concerned. I shall now take this time to shamelessly plug my DeviantART account, where you can find all Just Another Night at Freddy's fan art I'm aware of as well as a special short story just for that one website, as well as some other fun FNAF stuff and some personal journals if you want to know more about me and the work that goes in to each chapter of each installment of the series.**_

_**If you do visit, make sure to give Deviant artists wolfjedisamuel, Tesla51, Captain-Splat, and xXAMemetic-EngineBXx some of your time since the devoted some of their own bringing some wonderful pieces of art. The link to my profile page can be found in my Bio. **_

_**Since we're on the subject, if you happen to have made or want to make anything based off my writing, please share it with me! I'd love to see it, and if you (for some reason) were wanting permission as some have, consider this it, just make sure you put a little note saying "DeltaV did this thing," and then take all the credit you want. And again, share it with me, I love seeing how many talented people read my series. **_

_**Hope you enjoyed this rather messed up and fun (at least for me) chapter, and have Happy New Year! Also, have a good one! (Oh, and don't worry, we'll get back to the FNAF 2 gang REALLY soon, I just oh so wanted this subplot!)**_

_**-DeltaV "I love watching the balls drop in Times Square! Shi-, I meant ball, BALL, as in singular, not testicular!"**_


	5. Chapter Four

Chapter Four: Something New

Nathan happily arrived to eliminate the restriction programming in each animatronic, there was just a slight problem: He wanted to arrive early in the morning, straight in the midst of the massive clean-up operation.

The mechanic walked into a busy restaurant, with men in white coveralls shuttling cleaning supplies back and forth, their fronts filled with red. He could see Freddy, Bonnie, and Chica onstage, and that was all he cared about. A few of the workers gave Nathan odd looks when they saw him climb onto the Show Stage, as if they knew something he didn't, but weren't about to share. He shrugged it off, and retrieved the aged programming computer from Backstage, slotting its uplink cable into the back of Bonnie's head.

Despite the many years since he had worked at Freddy's, Nathan still remembered every little detail when it came to Fazbear artificial intelligence and its operating system. Normally, a mechanic like him was not supposed to receive training as a technician, so Nathan taught himself, gradually acquiring knowledge and experience over the five years he worked for the company. He could now isolate and change any programming data or even add smaller ones.

Nathan quickly found the lines of code that locked the animatronics servos, and cracked his knuckles, reading to perform a feat of computer wizardry in order to free his friends from what was essentially an invisible prison.

_**Delete performancelockdown-exe?**_

_Y_

_** performancelockdown-exe deleted. Servo locks disengaged. Voice box scripting deactivated. A.I. limiter disabled. Free-roam mode engaged. **_

Nathan dusted his hands off in fake bravado and disconnected the computer from Bonnie. Clicks, clacks, and whirrs sounded as the rabbit turned to face him. Nathan put a finger to his lips and motioned for her to look straight ahead. Bonnie smiled and did so, watching out of her peripheral vision as the mechanic quickly did the same with Freddy and Chica, signaling for them to keep their cover until the cleaning crew left.

Wheeling the computer cart down and carefully getting it down the stairs that led to the stage, Nathan brushed past an irritated looking cleaner.

"I hate this place," he mumbled, "Always friggin' blood everywhere."

Nathan paused.

_Blood? What?_ He thought, and continued on his way towards Pirate's Cove.

It was dark, as per usual, but Foxy could be seen sitting on his chest. The cleaners gave the curtains a wide berth, with most of them gathered by the window of the Security Office. Nathan entered, pulling the computer along behind him, eyes adjusting to the low light. He felt along the back of Foxy's head, noticing he seemed sticky, until he found the latch.

Opening it, he inserted the cable and went about deleting the lockdown programming. Foxy's eyes immediately brightened, and he turned to face Nathan, grinning widely.

"Tha' be much bet'er, tha' be! Thank ye, Nathan," Foxy said in a low voice, before walking slowly to the wall, "I'll ge' tha lanterns goin'."

Foxy flicked the light switch for the Pirate's Cove, and several of the bulbs turned on, filling the space with sporadic areas of light. Foxy was now fully illuminated, and Nathan stared at him shock. Foxy cocked his head.

"Wha'?" he asked, then looked down at himself, "Oh, _this._ Don' worry, it's no' real this time."

"What do you mean 'this time'?" Nathan asked.

"I mean it don' be real human bilge water" Foxy explained, "Arianna had us try n' scare this poor swab, so I gotsa lot'a gunk thrown on me."

Nathan rubbed his temples, trying to understand.

"Why fake blood specifically?" he asked, "I don't get it, I mean it makes you look scary, but why?"

Foxy pushed his loose jaw back into place with his hook.

"He was tha lubber tha' wrote tha' tale abou' us bein' evil an' all," Foxy said, "When tha' night guard talked 'bout workin' here."

"Why would he think you're evil?"

Foxy fidgeted.

"Er… It be a bit o' a long story, mate," Foxy replied awkwardly, fiddling with his hook.

Nathan crossed his arms.

"I got time," he said, "What's wrong? What happened?"

Foxy paused, then explained everything as far as he knew it. He told Nathan about the vandals breaking in, how they thought they were endoskeletons and stuffed them into suits, killing them, and how they had done that to the night guards that hadn't made it until six for years. The fox stared at the floor the entire time, as if he was coming clean to his father about something he had kept a secret for a long time.

Nathan listened to the entire thing with growing shock and horror. He was so distracted about trying to process the information, he hadn't noticed Foxy had stopped talking and was looking at him again.

"Are ye mad?" the pirate asked, concerned that Nathan's silence meant he was in trouble.

"No, I'm… just…" Nathan began, then sat down on the stage, "Did Mike know about this?"

Foxy nodded.

"We tried ta stuff him too," Foxy admitted, "Bu' we learned he be human before tha' happened."

"Jesus…" Nathan said, rubbing his face, "How many?"

"How many wha'?" Foxy asked.

"How many guards did you stuff?" Nathan asked.

Foxy paused, deep in thought, searching his memory for the guards that didn't make it since they received the programming. Unfortunately, the first few guards were all killed until the security supervisor stepped in to personally handle it. He managed for a long time, making it to the point of retirement before the animatronics finally broke into the office. His last week Foxy could remember him spending most of his time talking into the phone, giving advice to other night guards. He could also remember the man's final night.

* * *

It had been nearly a year since the person they now realized was the supervisor took over, and not once had he slipped up despite the animatronics' best efforts. He had gotten older, more worn down, but never seemed to hold any animosity towards Freddy and the others, always giving them the same sad smile whenever they approached the door.

"Hey guys," he'd always say, "Having a good night? Mines, uh, been better, but I'm still trucking along, heh-heh."

He was always "trucking along," and that was part of what finally got him.

His last week seemed to be his hardest, juggling keeping the animatronics from getting in while recording advice for the future night guards. On the fourth night, Freddy decided that to catch their most unruly endoskeleton ever, he needed to pull out all the stops. The "endo" could be heard whistling a tune from down the hall, and Freddy ordered the charge.

They all attacked, all at once, Bonnie and Foxy on the left, Chica and Freddy on the right. The man let out a cry of alarm, never having to deal with all four robots at the same time, and locked both doors. Foxy began pounding on his door. Through the window, they could see the guard quickly grab the phone and press several buttons on it before speaking into the mouthpiece.

"Hello, hello? Hey! Hey, wow, day four, I knew you could do it," he said as encouragingly as he could, "Uh, hey, listen, I may not be around to send you a message tomorrow."

Foxy pounded on the door harder

"It's-It's been a bad night here for me. Um, I-I'm kinda glad that I recorded my messages for you uh, when I did, uh, hey, do me a favor," he was interrupted by all the animatronics starting to beat at the doors.

"Maybe sometime, uh, you could check inside those suits in the back room? I'm gonna to try to hold out until someone checks. Maybe it won't be so bad. Uh, I-I-I-I always wondered what was in all those empty heads back there."

The animatronics combined pounding started to leave dents on the door, battering away at the electromagnet keeping them sealed. Finally, they failed, and the doors rose. The supervisor looked up sadly. Freddy began playing his jingle.

"You know-," he started to say, looking at Foxy, but was grabbed from behind by Freddy, "Oh no…"

The four animatronics charged in, screeching, and the man began to spasm, clutching at his chest. His shaking intensified, odd gargling noises sounding before he finally went limp, head lolling to the side.

Freddy looked at him in shock.

"Oh my, do you think he shorted out?" he asked the others.

"We must have overclocked him," Chica offered, "Probably fried its circuits when we all charged in."

"Tha swab won' do us much good now," Foxy huffed, "Can' use a broken endo."

"You killed the security supervisor?" Nathan asked.

"Aye," Foxy said sadly, "Bu' ta be fair, we didn' lay a hand on him."

* * *

"What about our day guard? Harrison?" Nathan asked.

"Wha' did he look like?"

"Blonde hair, kinda stocky, cracked a lot of jokes," Nathan replied, remembering.

"Oh… Aye, aye, I s'pose we did," Foxy admitted sadly, "This isn' makin' me feel be'ter."

"I'm sorry, I just didn't expect to hear this today. Let's get you cleaned up," Nathan told the fox, and left to borrow supplies from the cleaners.

* * *

The day wound up being one of the most profitable the restaurant had had in a long, long time. For all its negativity, the tabloid article had gotten Freddy Fazbear's back in the public conscious, and while the number of children dropped (much to the animatronics' disappointment), there were quite a few older people that had come to see the place for themselves. Target demographic or not, they still filled chairs and bought food, which brought in much needed money. The pizzeria had been struggling for so long, Arianna had the budget balanced on the tip of a pin.

The power rationing at night offset the expenditures for calling in the cleaners and keeping Bill around, Mike's salary wouldn't make too much of a dent since he didn't work long hours, and Nathan agreed to handle mechanical emergencies for free out of his concern for the animatronics' well being. He was still upset at the condition they were in, but being unemployed couldn't afford to make the expenses necessary to fix them, as he would have to purchase necessary supplies himself.

In terms of revenue, it had been a struggle to even break even, with the restaurant's fate being decided on a nearly monthly basis. Trout's hush settlement to keep Freddy's from pressing charges ensured that the doors could stay open for most of the year if used wisely. Food proved the most expensive, and there was a certain quality threshold, where crossing it meant no one wanted to even smell the pizza. Chica couldn't fix it, since what made her pizzas so good was the fact that she didn't make any mistakes at any part of the process, and while she could improvise, it was difficult to check on the quality when she couldn't smell or taste.

As the day wound down and the restaurant closed up for the day, Foxy enjoyed his new freedom of movement, poking his head out slightly to watch the remaining patrons leave. Arianna walked out of her office, and happened to glance at Pirate's Cove, locking eyes with the fox. He waved, and the manager awkwardly waved back before locking her office and meeting the janitor at the entrance. They exchanged words Foxy couldn't hear and Arianna left, leaving the janitor by his lonesome.

Foxy poked his head out further, glancing up at the stage. Freddy, Bonnie, and Chica remained in place, but they had turned to watch Bill work. They had only seen a little bit of him, only able to see the man when he happened to wander into their respective lines of sight. Now though, the animatronics could see for themselves the only other human that stayed after dark every day.

Bill walked into the Supply Closet, grabbing a mop and a bucket and returning to the Dining Area. He was an older man, with thinning gray-black hair with a significant paunch peeking over his belt and straining his gray uniform. He set the supplies down and pulled a set of headphones over his ears, clicking a button on some sort of device attached to his waist. His head began bobbing to an unheard beat as he began to mop.

The animatronics watched, amused, as Bill danced his way around the restaurant, pushing his mop around in front of him. Eventually, Chica couldn't help it anymore, and burst out laughing. Bill froze and took his headphones off, searching around for where the laugh had come from. Chica froze as well, turning down her voice box's output so her laughing was silent.

Finding nothing, Bill shrugged and went back to mopping, looking around uneasily as he mopped. It only took a few minutes for his "dance" to resume, the three animatronics all silently laughing at the sight.

* * *

A few hours later, Bill left, leaving the animatronics by themselves in the now darkened restaurant as the power rationing kicked in. The four gathered in the Dining Hall to wait for Mike's arrival, and Chica wasted no time in pointing out how ridiculous Bill looked.

"Janitor's got some moves," she said with a smirk. Bonnie giggled.

"Especially when he pretends to play guitar," she said, mimicking her own role in the band.

Freddy chuckled, but didn't comment. Foxy, on the other hand, pouted slightly, having missed most of the show from wanting to stay in Pirate's Cove while Bill was working.

"I always miss tha fun stuff," he complained.

The sound of a lock being turned and a door opening signaled Mike's entrance into the restaurant, and he soon rounded the corner, whistling merrily. He spotted the animatronics.

"Hey guys," he greeted cheerfully, "Got your free roam back, that's good."

He walked over to the group and grabbed a chair, swinging it around on one of its legs and sitting in it, grinning widely. Chica quirked an eyebrow.

"What's got you all excited?" she asked. Mike clapped his hands together.

"I am glad you asked, Chica. I found it," Mike announced proudly. The animatronics blinked.

"Found what?" Bonnie asked.

"Yes, you'll have to be more specific," Freddy added. Mike laughed.

"No sense of dramatic effect. I found out where the other location is, and swung by this afternoon. Looks pretty barren, but if the outside is any indication, it never got changed from a pizzeria," Mike explained, "So that means there's probably all the old stuff inside!"

The guard waited, hoping to see the same excitement come across the animatronics. No success.

"So?" Chica asked.

"_So_? So why don't we check it out?" Mike asked.

"Because we're not allowed outside?" Bonnie suggested.

"Because it's old and boring?" Chica added.

"We'd be breaking the law?" Freddy offered.

"People are scared of us?" Bonnie added.

"You'd lose your job?" Chica pointed out.

"We couldn't leave the show?" Freddy reminded.

"Becau-," Chica began, but Mike put up his hands.

"Alright, alright, I get it. Jeez," Mike interrupted, "But we're actually supposed to go there, tomorrow."

The animatronics all stared at him in surprise.

"What?" Chica asked.

"Yeah, apparently that guy that leaked worked there, so Arianna's really curious," Mike explained, "I was able to convince her to let me take you along with me, just in case."

"In case o' wha'?" Foxy asked.

"In case there are any animatronics and… they… you know…" Mike tapered off.

Chica started snickering.

"You're scared of robots, huh?" she asked in a mocking tone.

Mike glared at her, and Freddy narrowed his eyes.

"Chica!" he scolded.

"What?" she asked.

"Never mind, whatever. I just thought I'd bring backup in case stuff got hairy. I don't exactly trust this company all that much considering they never told me that I could've died," Mike said, "So, how about it? Tomorrow night?"

Foxy grinned and lowered his eye patch.

"Tha' be soundin' like an adventure lad! How could I be sayin' no?" Foxy said happily.

Chica shrugged.

"Sure, why not? Better than sitting around this place all day," she agreed.

"I want to go!" Bonnie exclaimed, "It could be cool to see what it's like."

"Sounds like a plan," Freddy agreed, "I assume you have all the preparations figured out."

"Yep. Besides, it's a kid's restaurant, how bad could it be?" Mike asked, sarcasm filtering into his voice.

* * *

Marion rose out of his box early, having been awoken by somebody. He looked around, and found the disturbance. Unfortunately, he couldn't glare.

"_You,_" he said, voice filled with ice, "What do you want now?"

"Why _Marion_," the figure said in a quiet, deep voice, reaching a yellow paw up to remove his top hat, "That's hardly a way to greet an old friend!" The "Golden" bear, color darkened by numerous stains (some of them blood), looked at the puppet with a frozen smile, made disturbing by the lack of eyes.

Marion snorted, and the bear chuckled.

"Don't be that way! We used to be partners, after all!" the Golden bear said.

"That was years ago, _Goldie,_" Marion replied, spitting the bear's nickname, "Didn't do me much good when you got this place shut down."

"Still hung up on that, are we?"

"Puppet jokes, ha ha," Marion said, "No wonder those kids loved you."

"The pun wasn't intended. Now about our little… agreement," Goldie hinted.

Marion turned away.

"Parts and Service is open. Just… Just get it over with. The others activate in a few hours, you better be gone before then," Marion said, "I don't want them to see you."

"I'm not a part of your precious _family,_ eh?" Goldie mocked, "I never understood your relationship with them."

"I take care of them, they take care of me. Simple," Marion shot back.

Goldie put his top hat back on and tipped it, expressionless face staring back eyelessly.

"They'll find out eventually, then what will they do to you? Hmm? You can't hide in this restaurant forever, Marion. The truth always comes out," Goldie replied, and walked away, dragging a large sack behind him.

Marion sank back into his box dejectedly, and closed it.

_**A/N: The ball is rolling, I repeat, the ball is rolling! Yes, it seems we've found the plot, so let's get this going, baby! Sorry I've been gone so long, sickness and all that. The past, like, month has been horrible health-wise. **_

_**Nothing much else to report or announce, other than that wolfjedisamuel made another wonderful piece of artwork that's actually a title image for The Golden Years, and I strongly urge you to check it out (you can find it in the favorites of my DeviantART profile, link in my bio). **_

_**Oh, and Fanfiction didn't allow me to have a "." in the coding, so I used a dash. Also, I don't know computers, so if that's wrong, too bad. **_

_**Have a good one, everyone!**_

_**-DeltaV "Have you tried turning it off and back on again, see if that works?"**_


	6. Chapter Five

Chapter Five: A Magical Place

Goldie left an hour and a half later, walking past Marion in his box an hour later. The puppet wasn't sure exactly where he disappeared to, and didn't want to know. There was a very good chance he would hate the answer.

At midnight, the animatronics' total (as opposed to triggered) free-roam mode activated, and they cheerily began to perform the chores Marion gave them in order to keep the pizzeria from completely rotting down. Major things like actual physical maintenance or construction couldn't be accomplished, but certain things were done to keep decay and damage at a minimum. Usually it was cleaning.

Balloon Boy busied himself dusting what he could reach at his small stature, rubbing a rag along the surfaces of everything in the Game Area. He hummed a nonsensical tune as he worked, thinking back to his best friend Marion.

The puppet seemed upset about something, but that couldn't be right. What was there to be upset about? This place was perfect, a magical place for kids and adults alike! How could someone be sad? Maybe someone popped his balloon, yeah, that's it! A lot of kids got sad when they're balloon popped or accidentally floated up to the ceiling where neither they nor BB could reach it. Now the vendor knew what to do!

BB put the rag down on top of the blue bunny's head on the carousel and set to work, opening up a drawer that slid out of his stomach. Inside were a bunch of balloons of varying colors, some brand new, some very old. He pulled out a white one and fastened it over a valve in his mouth. The valve connected to the small helium tank stored in his torso, and a hissing sounded as he filled the balloon with the gas.

It swelled outward, appearing as if the animatronic was blowing a massive white gum bubble, before he cut off the gas. With surprising dexterity for a robot, BB methodically, if slowly, tied off the end of the balloon and attached a black string hanging from a rack near where he usually stood. The balloon was inflated, but not finished.

Searching around in drawers behind the host/hostess table BB found a black felt tip pen, and carefully drew large, black eyes and a big smile, replicating his puppet friend as best he could. After finishing coloring in the eyes, he took in his work: The eyes were lopsided, and the grin looked pretty goofy, but BB was sure Marion could see the resemblance.

BB gave himself a pat on the back for a job well done and wandered over to the Prize Corner, tying the balloon string through a hole in the prize counter so it floated over Marion's gift box, bobbing gently in the breeze that filtered from the still functional air conditioning. Clanking accompanied by the small crackle of pierced drywall sounded the approach of Mangle, who crawled along the ceiling.

"_Zzxxxyrt!_" she greeted, dropping a hand down to wave. BB waved back.

"Hi Mangle! Like what I made for Marion?" the vender asked.

Mangle crawled over to the balloon, neck twisting about like a snake as she took the floating orb in from all sides, single eye glowing slightly. It seemed to meet her standards and the thrashed fox nodded in approval. She turned back around.

"_Tyzxyrplay?_" she asked eagerly.

"Sure! I just need to finish-," BB began, but was interrupted by a crash sounding from Parts and Service.

Mangle immediately whipped her head towards the sound, useless second head swinging around and hitting the ceiling. After a short pause, her curiosity got the upper hand and she clambered towards the noise, nudging the adjar door open.

Back when the pizzeria was open, Parts and Service was filled with, well, parts. Everything from eyes to Mangle suits (she had "fur," unlike the others, so that she could be soft) was stored. But the biggest things were four new animatronics, being assembled on location to save the cost of moving them. They were taken out along with most of the spare parts, being moved across town to what the people called the "new location." They were never seen again, still unfinished as they were wheeled aboard the large truck.

Now, the room was mostly bare, save for parts that had been glossed over during the controlled chaos of the move. And the thing responsible for the noise, a bare endoskeleton. He (as Marion confirmed) had lost his entire suit years ago, and as a result from being exposed had lost the use of much of his body, including his eyes. He rarely moved about, finding difficulty moving his rusting limbs, and generally remained in a powered off state. Tonight, however, he decided he wanted to move around, and had fallen off the large metal table he usually laid on.

"_Byrrrx?_" Mangle asked him. He looked up, but not at Mangle.

"Me? Fine, just dandy. Just laying here, rotting, rusting, all of that," the endoskeleton replied in a flat, sarcastic voice, filled with static. Being left suit-less had made him a mean-spirited pessimist.

"Sounds like you're still the same. Functional, at least," he added, awkwardly feeling around to get his bearings, crawling similar to Mangle.

At that moment Freddy walked in, looking in surprise at the endoskeleton on the floor.

"Eddy! I didn't know you were awake!" he said with genuine delight. Eddy looked in Freddy's general direction, frowning as best as he could.

"I am, and it's awful. And that's _not_ my name!" he protested, "I don't care what your puppet friend says."

"Of course, of course," Freddy said, trying to make his friend happy, "But he did want us to take out the trash again."

"Well keep me out of it," Eddy spat, "I hate chores."

"You hate everything," Freddy reminded, and opened the closet of Parts and Service. Inside was a burlap sack, the "trash." He lifted it with ease and strode towards the garbage chute, a massive opening that fed into the large dumpsters located out on the street, originally installed as a matter of convenience for the staff. It now served as the only interaction the animatronics had on the outside world. Freddy pushed it through without a second thought, dusting his paws off with a satisfied smile.

"Done and done!" he announced, and wandered off to do more chores.

* * *

Mangle left Eddy alone in Parts and Service, rejoining BB in the Game Area and playing a game of hide and seek. Bonnie walked around with his guitar, humming a song they had programmed to specifically hum while they walked around back when the place was open. Chica was cleaning out cobwebs behind the Prize Corner and Marion, for one of the rarest occasions, left his box, being wheeled along tracks built in the ceiling, watching his odd family go about their night.

A sigh escaped him, watching guiltily as the other robots ever so slowly decayed around him. Their paint faded, scratches and dings grew more numerous, and their joints squeaked more and more. BB's helium occasionally leaked, and Mangle became more and more broken down, voice box losing its ability to form more words. Chica's beak mount didn't hold as tightly, and the bird became incredibly embarrassed when it once fell clean off, quickly covering her face and hiding in Parts and Service until Mangle delivered the beak.

They were working on borrowed time, and it was a miracle the power company didn't cut them off yet. If something didn't happen, and soon, there would come a time when no one activated at midnight.

* * *

Mike Schmidt arrived at work early the next day, finding a rent-a-truck parked in front of the main entrance, Arianna's sedan next to it. He found the manager inside talking to the animatronics. It was currently 10:30, and the group was getting ready for their "expedition." Especially Foxy, who had dragged his chest into the Dining Hall. Arianna was currently trying to explain that the pirate didn't need to pack anything.

"Foxy, you don't need to bring a map! We know where the restaurant is!" Arianna said, pulling the piece of paper out of the fox's hand and pointing to it, "It leads to Tortuga!"

Foxy crossed his arms.

"Ye never know, lass," he said, "If yer out n' abou' an' lose yer bearin's, don' come cryin' ta me."

Arianna picked up a large glass bottle.

"What about this?" she asked. Foxy grabbed for it.

"Hey! Tha's me rum!" he protested. Arianna yanked it away.

"It's empty, and this label says it was fruit juice," Arianna replied, before tossing it back. Foxy clumsily caught and gently set it in the chest, glaring at her. He then noticed Mike.

"Ahoy, Mike! Ye ready for our adventure?" he asked excitedly. Mike nodded.

"Yep, I just want to grab a few things," he replied, and walked into the Security Office. Foxy turned back to Arianna.

"At leas' le' me bring me cutlass," he begged, holding up the blade. Arianna put her hands on her hips.

"Okay, one, it's fucking fake, and two, what the hell do you think you're gonna do with it?" she asked. Foxy slashed it through the air twice.

"Figh' monsters wit' it," he said.

"There won't be any monsters!" Arianna groaned, "Put it back." Foxy scowled.

"Yer no fun," he told her, putting the sword back and kicking the chest shut.

At that moment, Mike returned, carrying a flashlight and the two-way radios. Arianna waved him over.

"Alright, we're closed tomorrow for some holiday or whatever, so this is your best chance. If you're not back before midnight I'm assuming the worst and sending the police, so it will not be a good thing if they have to be called. I got you another truck, taken from _your_ pay this time, so you should have no problems checking the place out," Arianna explained, "You're fucking welcome for this, by the way. You owe me huge for letting you do this, and we're putting a lot at risk."

Mike nodded.

"I understand. Thanks Arianna, you're the best," Mike replied drily.

"Don't go soft on me, Schmidt. Now get out of here, you're burning moonlight," Arianna said, and waved him towards the door.

Mike smiled and touched the tips of his first and middle finger to his forehead in a mock salute before turning towards the door.

"C'mon guys, let's hit it!" Mike announced, and headed for the truck, animatronics following him. Bonnie sped up to walk next to him.

"Hit what?" she asked.

Mike sighed.

"It's an expression, Bon. Let's… let's just go."

* * *

The ride over had been uneventful, even if the animatronics found it difficult to maintain their balance, and twice one of them fell over. The first time it was Freddy, but he managed to catch himself on the side of the truck. Mike was incredibly surprised when the truck suddenly lurched to the left, but corrected fast enough to avoid an accident. The second time it was Chica, who screeched in surprise when Mike made a hard right turn after missing the side street he needed.

"Sorry, that was me," Mike called through to the back. Chica screeched again in annoyance and pounded once on the wall separating the cab and cargo sections.

"How about a little warning, eh?" she asked pointedly.

"Alright, sheesh," Mike replied, and focused on driving smoother.

Mike actually missed the building the first time, not used to the area and especially in the dark. A small side light next to the entrance was still lit, indicating that remarkably the place was still getting power somehow.

_I thought the power company'd cut them off,_ Mike thought, _Unless someone's paying the bills. _

He eased the truck with the cargo door aimed at the front entrance, turning off the engine and climbing out of the cab.

"We're here!" Bonnie said excitedly, voice muffled from being in the truck.

"Good, I hate riding in this thing," Chica commented.

"It ain' all bad," Foxy told her matter-of-factly, having ridden in trucks before.

Mike undid the latch and raised the cargo door open. Chica stepped off first, tripping slightly over the step. Foxy snickered.

"Ye still got yer sea legs, lass," he said, stepping out with ease. Chica glared at him.

Freddy and Bonnie stepped up as well, the group completely alone in front of the abandoned pizzeria. Its exterior was extremely weathered; the original purple heavily faded and washed out. The white painted trim that had once encircled the large building had turned a sickly brown from dirt and pollution. Above the covered entrance was a scattered array of metal mounts, the remains of the pizzeria's large sign.

The building was rectangular in nature, with smaller rectangles protruding long-wise from the main shape to form areas such as the entrance, but the general structure seemed like a large square. Round concrete planters filled with dirt and dead weeds lined the entrance with three on either side. A concrete bench sat off to the side, its surface stained from rainwater mixing with dirt. One of the large windows had a big, spider webbed crack in it.

"Well," Mike said, "This is it."

"Gross," Chica commented.

"How are we going to get in?" Bonnie asked, looking the building up and down.

Freddy walked up to the main entrance and tested the door. Locked tight, it barely even moved in its frame. Mike tested as well.

"Geez, this door is deceptively sturdy," Mike replied, jiggling it. He quickly walked around and tried other doors, but all were sealed with multiple locks. Except for one, a small door that looked like it led to the Kitchen.

The door was metal, and had a lot of give. Even better, Mike picked up a rock that looked out of place and found a key in the hollowed underside, attached with a magnet.

"That's convenient," Bonnie observed. Mike nodded, frowning.

"Yeah… Why would this be here?" he wondered aloud, and stuck it in the lock. It fit, and the guard unlocked the door. It swung open to reveal a dark hallway with posters and faded happy décor.

"How familiar…" Mike noted dryly, and lingered in front of the doorway, aiming his flashlight down the hall. Foxy pushed past him, eye patch lowered.

"C'mon, lad! Adventure awaits!" he cheered, and charged down the hall, feet clanking loudly on the tile floor.

"Foxy! Get back here you big oaf!" Chica shouted, and chased after him, suited feet making heavy muffled footfalls.

"Chica, not you too! C'mon Freddy!" Bonnie said, and dragged the bear after the retreating chicken. Mike stood flabbergasted.

"What the fu-, guys? Guys! Oh son of a bitch!" he swore, and ran after them, closing the door behind him.

* * *

His dash ended once he was several steps inside, slowing down to let his eyes adjust and figure out where he was in relation to the others. To his right sat a long hallway leading to a room with a sign reading "Security." Figuring he might as well go into familiar surroundings, Mike headed towards the office. Clanking steps sounded behind him, and turning Mike saw Foxy following him, head swiveling around as he took everything in eagerly.

"Ahoy, Mike," he greeted, not looking at the guard, "This be a fine port o' call, aye?"

"I guess," Mike said, and began searching the office.

The items he found were something else. The large wooden desk seemed different, yet at the same time extremely familiar, and Mike sat in the older rolling chair to get the full effect. In the desk's main drawer he found a camera tablet, just like the one he used, but much thicker and bulkier, with a wire running into a socket on the wall. Sitting off to the side was a Freddy Fazbear head, but slightly different, with different proportions and a lack of wires and crossbars.

"What the…?" he wondered aloud, and looked up, seeing Foxy wandering back down the hall. Mike set the head down. He then noticed one very specific detail.

"There's not even a door to his office," Mike observed, pointing to the long, dark hallway. He shined his flashlight down it, seeing Foxy standing at the end and looking back. Mike flashed the light a couple times.

"Stop it!" Foxy complained, holding up an arm to shield his eyes, "Yer makin' me lose me bearin's!"Mike lowered the light.

"Sorry!" Mike called, and saw Bonnie and Freddy join a blinking Foxy at the end of the hall. The guard looked back at the Freddy head, still curious as to its use.

"What is this for?" he wondered aloud, and tried putting it on his head. It fit snugly, like a motorcycle helmet, but fuzzy. His air supply was restricted and his breathing was amplified.

Through the eye holes Mike could see Freddy, Bonnie, and Foxy approach. Both Freddy and Bonnie cocked their heads to the side, staring at Mike in confusion.

"Who are you? Are you an animatronic here?" Freddy asked. Foxy looked at him.

"Wha' are ye talkin' 'bout, mate?" Foxy asked his friend.

"Hi! I'm Bonnie! And your name?" Bonnie prompted, extending out a paw. Foxy stared at her bewildered.

"Tha's Mike!" he explained, pointing with his hook, "He be wearin' some odd mask or somethin'."

Mike nodded and took it off.

"Yeah. See?" Bonnie and Freddy looked at him in surprise.

"Mike? When did you get here?" Freddy asked. Foxy shook his head slowly.

"Ye lot be needin' yer eyes checked," he muttered.

At that moment, Chica wandered in, taking in the small office.

"Well. This place certainly suits ya, Mikey," Chica commented, using Mike's childhood nickname. He glared at her, but said nothing and took out the tablet, pressing random buttons located on its side.

After several attempts, the screen flickered, illuminating a large crack on it, like it had been dropped or thrown. The Animatronics Limited logo flashed on and lingered for nearly a minute as the device booted. Dust fluttered around the large vents on the back. It whirred loudly, and the logo flickered three times before the screen displayed the Show Stage and a map of the restaurant.

"They're still here!" Mike observed, looking at the dark image of another set of Freddy, Bonnie, and Chica standing on stage. Four corners were drawn as a sort of partial outline next to the map, and Mike tapped it experimentally. A flashlight attached to the camera flickered on and off with the tap, and Mike held it down. Light splayed across the faces of the animatronics, and the guard could now take them in with more detail.

The general theme seemed to be a more toy-like appearance as opposed to the furrier appearance of the others. The slight sheen of their suits indicated a hard material as opposed to fabric. They each had rosy red cheeks and gave them a doll-like sort of feel.

"Toy" Bonnie, as Mike decided to name it (if the animatronic's name even _was_ Bonnie), was a bright shade of blue. Like the others, the rabbit had rosy red cheeks, but also what looked like eye shadow, so perhaps this version was female as well. Her (Mike erred on the side of caution) eyes were bright green, and she sported a big red bowtie similarly to Bonnie, and held a cherry red electric guitar. Apparently the roles were not switched between the two restaurants.

"Toy" Freddy was just as different from the other Freddy, being much slimmer and having the same rosy cheeks and goofy grin as Toy Bonnie. Apparently he was still the leader, as he stood in front of the other two, and still sang if the microphone he held was any indication. Top hats seemed to be Freddy's "thing," as this older version wore a smaller one with a red band along the bottom.

"Toy" Chica (Mike assumed so, anyway) shared the least amount of resemblance with her counterpart. Her figure was much slimmer and more feminine, with a slight hourglass shape and apparently pants for some odd reason. Toy Chica's head was smaller and the beak appeared to be directly attached to the inner endoskeleton as opposed to part of the suit's jaw. Again, the same rosy cheeks and doll theme were present, especially pronounced on Chica.

The other Chica peered over Mike's shoulder to see what he was staring at.

"Oh, those guys," she noted, "Saw 'em on their stage. Pretty weird looking."

Mike nodded.

"I suppose by comparison, they do look pretty different. Probably looked cute to the kids though," Mike pointed out.

Chica shrugged.

"Eh, sure, whatever you say," she said disinterestedly, "I'm gonna walk around more."

"Aye, me too. We've explored this office enough, says I, and I be shovin' off fer another shore," Foxy said, and walked down the hallway, Chica following close behind.

"Alright, be careful," Mike said to their retreating backs.

* * *

Foxy meandered towards the Show with Chica, wanting to look at their older counterparts. In the large room where the stage was sat many tables and chairs, just like at their restaurant. Unlike their restaurant, however, there seemed to be different sections and a door on the far side. This door piqued Foxy's curiosity, and he wandered over. The door had a faded sign on it reading "Kid's Cove" and lacked a window. The name won Foxy over and he tested the door, pushing it open.

Naturally, it was dark, and Foxy's eyes glowed softly as his night vision worked harder to adjust to the low light. The room was pretty much an open space, painted white with a tile floor. Tables with faded party hats sat on the sides, seeming to frame a specific corner of the room. Decorative present boxes sat haphazardly stacked near these tables.

In the open corner of the room, Foxy could see a mangled mess of metal, and fox-shaped head.

_What in blazes?_ He thought, and walked over.

It was an animatronic, or at least it used to be, with almost all of its suit missing and quite a large amount of damaged metal. The head still had a suit on, although it lacked an eye, and heavily resembled Foxy. The snout was a little bit shorter and narrower, but the ears and eyes looked identical. It was white, heavily faded by dirt and time, and the characteristic rosy cheeks were still there, but oddly lipstick could be seen drawn around the mouth.

"Ah, so yer a lass!" Foxy realized aloud, "Ye don' seem ta be in a fair state, bu' I know how ye fell. I don' be in tha best shape meself."

Foxy's one-sided dialogue seemed to have triggered something, as a _click_ sounded and the eye began to glow. The pirate took a half-step backwards as the pile of limbs began sorting itself out and the head looked up. The single eye blinked three times as the animatronic studied him, head cocked slightly to the left. Then its jaw spread in a large smile.

"_Tyzzrrt!_" it said, and lunged at Foxy.

* * *

Meanwhile, Bonnie had joined Chica in looking at their counterparts. Chica seemed a little bit peeved at her older depiction, but Bonnie like hers.

"I always wanted to be blue!" she said, looking the unmoving rabbit up and down. Chica imitated a scoff.

"Please, you told me you loved purple," Chica said, frowning at the much more feminine appearance of her "Toy" version, "What is up with the pink underwear? I'm a chicken for crying out loud!"

"I think it makes you look cute," Bonnie teased. Chica punched her shoulder softly.

"Shut up," she said, but grinned anyway.

Their conversation activated a similar function in the onstage counterparts, and a click sounded from Toy Bonnie. His eyes glowed softly green, and he and Bonnie made eye contact. Bonnie's eyes widened in surprise as Toy Bonnie's widened in recognition. The blue rabbit gave a massive grin.

"You're home!" he cheered, and pulled Bonnie into a massive hug. Bonnie looked to Chica.

"Chica…" she said uncertainly, but before the bird could respond, the same _click_ sounded from Toy Chica. The two chickens stared at each other.

"Oh my gosh, it's _you_!" Toy Chica squealed and pulled Chica into a hug as well, "It's been, like, _forever!_ How have you been? Where did you go? Do you want some pizza? Oh, wait, we can't eat. Oil?"

Chica groaned and turned to look at Bonnie, who was still in mid-hug.

"I can see why this place got shut down," she said drily.

At that moment, the door to Kid's Cove burst open and Foxy emerged, dragging along an overjoyed Mangle who had her arms wrapped around his torso.

"Can ye _please_ le' me go, lass?" the irritated fox asked, taking slow steps forward as he dragged the other along.

"_I can't! It's so good to see you again!_" the broken fox replied happily, although it had a massive layer of static that had to be translated.

"Wha' do ye mean 'again'?" Foxy asked, "I've never seen this place before."

"You guys were being built here for a while, but then you disappeared!" Toy Bonnie explained over Bonnie's shoulder, "But now you're back and we're gonna have so much _fun!_"

"I kinda like the sound of that," Bonnie added, having started to hug back. Chica shook her head, trying to pull away from Toy Chica.

"I don't think Mike will approve of any 'fun' with these guys," she said, hoping that would be a valid excuse not to participate.

Mangle, Toy Bonnie, Toy Chica, and a freshly activated Toy Freddy all snapped their heads to face her.

"Who's Mike?" they all asked in unison.

_**A/N: Well, it's finally here, the entire Fazbear family is together again! Gonna be an interesting night, that's for sure. Sorry this took so long, I've just been really scatter-brained recently. I've started a side project based on Left 4 Dead since I recently began playing it and remembered how fun that is. I don't know if I'll post it or not, I haven't sunk as much time into it as I have into this. I've also had my job, learning magic, friends, family, and all that other stuff. Chapter's a little bit longer than usual to compensate. **_

_**One other thing, I know I don't respond to any reviews in my Author's Notes, but this time I feel the need to as they don't have a Fanfiction account that I can reply to. **_

_**To Kiritsugu: I read every review I and try to reply to as much as I can. Unfortunately, you don't have an account that I can reply through a private message, but I still think I owe you one, it's just for all to see. Your review was extremely humbling, and I consider it an honor to have been able to keep your mind off your worries for at least a few minutes. That's all I ever really wanted with these stories, to entertain people and take them to a different place where they just have to watch and enjoy. I wish you the best of luck with the challenges you will face in the future. Thank you so much for reading, reviewing, and being a fan. **_

_**I really wanted to do that for him/her. Now then, to other things: I don't know if you all remember, but I wanted to make a "Choose Your Own Adventure" style story set in this universe, and I still do! It's against Fanfiction's Terms of Service, and I certainly don't want to break them, but I'll keep you guys updated as to what the plan is. **_

_**Also, I rarely plug anything in my Author's Notes (unless it's something I'm doing), but I figured I might as well direct your attention to my good friend and occasional co-writer Arm Chair General. He's got an interesting Halo and Star Wars crossover going on, even though he's slower than I am at updating, it is still getting worked on. He's also done parodies of Frozen and Tangled songs with the lyrics changed to be a humorous take on World War II (of which he is a historian of, so you know it's done with respect) and a Batman Arkham City story using an Original Character of mine. Might be worth a look if you like the more humorous parts of my stories and Batman. **_

_**That's it for me, have a good one! –DeltaV "Got 99 problems but the plot ain't one! …Is that joke still relevant?"**_


	7. Chapter Six

_**ADVISORY: This chapter contains graphic violence and a huge drop on the Cerebus Rollercoaster. **_

Chapter Six: Facial Recognition

Mike had decided to search the desk drawers in the office, pulling out an array of different objects as Freddy decided to explore the restaurant some more. There were a few souvenirs from when the restaurant was in business, such as little plush dolls of the Toy versions of Chica and Freddy, as well as those same dolls for what would become Foxy and Bonnie. There was one doll that puzzled him, one of a yellow Freddy. It had been buried deep down in the drawer where the little prizes were stored, and Mike took a small delight in lining them up on the desktop. The yellow Freddy seemed out of place, so he turned it around to stare towards the hallway.

As the night guard pulled out a creepily familiar cupcake toy, he failed to notice the entrance of a small animatronic.

"Hi!" a cheery voice said from directly next to Mike.

The guard gave out a shout of surprise and whirled around to face the source. It was a small, round humanoid animatronic, wearing a red and blue striped shirt, matching propeller cap, blue pants and brown shoes. He was holding a striped balloon in his right hand and a sign cheerfully promoting "Balloons!" in his left.

"Uh… hi," Mike greeted awkwardly.

"I'm Balloon Boy, but most people call me BB! What's your name?" the small animatronic asked.

Mike rolled the chair slightly backwards, not trusting this animatronic.

"I'm Mike," Mike replied simply, "The, uh, night guard."

BB's eyes and grin widened.

"Night guard? Alright! We haven't had a night guard since Jeremy worked here. He was nice, but he wouldn't let me touch the glowy thing or his flashlight. Can I touch your glowy thing?" BB asked innocently.

Mike subtly put the tablet in the drawer.

"I don't have a 'glowy thing'," he lied, "Or a flashlight."

BB visibly deflated.

"Oh," he said sadly, but then perked up immediately, "Do you want a balloon? I got lots of balloons!" A drawer slid out of his chest to illustrate this point.

Mike rubbed his face, already sick of BB being here.

"Will it make you go away?" he asked, "Don't you have something to do?"

BB shook his head, smile still plastered on his face.

"Nope! Marion says that I can be a 'nuisance' sometimes, whatever that means," BB explained, "Oh, right, Marion! Oh, I gotta tell him you're here, he loves meeting the night guards!"

With that, the small robot dashed out of the room, leaving the balloon he had brought to float up and bump into the ceiling. Mike sighed in relief, but a thought soon struck him. If that robot was active, then the others could be active too. He quickly pulled the camera tablet back out again.

* * *

"Bonnie? Chica? Foxy?" Freddy called out, trying to find his friends.

"Over here!" he heard Bonnie shout, and followed the voice to the Show Stage. To the bear's surprise, the other animatronics had activated, and had swarmed Bonnie and Chica. Chica was currently talking to the blue Bonnie.

"So let me get this straight: you're a _guy_?" Chica asked. Bonnie nodded.

"Yup! Don't worry, I get it a lot. Everyone always assumes that I'm a girl because of my name and all that, but usually the owner explains that I'm actually a he, and it gets straightened out in the end," Toy Bonnie explained casually, "So who's this Mike guy you were talking about?"

"Oh… He's a friend of ours," Bonnie answered vaguely, hoping the blue rabbit would take the hint. He didn't.

"Friend? I love new friends! Can I meet him? Pleeeeaaassseee?" Bonnie begged. Mangle had crawled up on the ceiling, hanging down into the conversation.

"_I want to meet him too. He sounds nice!_" she said. Toy Chica giggled.

"You don't know anything besides his name, silly!" she said. Chica inwardly groaned at the mannerisms of her counterpart, feeling embarrassed despite the fact they were two separate characters.

"I'm not so sure that would be the best thing to do right now. He's… sensitive to animatronics," Freddy explained, making himself known to the new animatronics for the first time. Toy Freddy looked at the bear with genuine delight.

"You're back too!" he said, and grabbed him in the world's most literal bear hug. Freddy chuckled and patted Toy Freddy on the back.

"Yes, yes I am," he replied calmly, bemused smile on his face, "I take it we've been here before?"

"You were built here, buddy!" Toy Freddy explained in his goofy voice, "But then you went and plumb disappeared, and we thought we'd never see you again!"

"Now all we have left to meet is your friend Mike!" Toy Chica said, "Where is he? Outside? Isn't it cold at night? I don't want him to be cold! Is he in the bathroom? I've never been in there, what happens there, exactly? Oh! Is he in-." Chica clamped a hand over her counterpart's beak.

"Do me a favor?" she asked.

Toy Chica nodded, not wanting to speak while her beak was obstructed. Chica leaned in.

"Shut up," she said, and let go of Toy Chica's beak, who looked at Chica confused as she rubbed her beak to make sure it was still in place.

At that moment, Balloon Boy wandered in, heading for the Prize Corner to see if Marion was awake. He gave a cheer of surprise upon seeing Freddy, Bonnie, Chica, and Foxy.

"Guys! You're back!" he exclaimed, then gasped, "I gotta make more balloons!"

The small animatronic hurriedly extended his drawer and attached a brown balloon to the valve in his mouth, quickly inflating it. Freddy chuckled.

"Thank you, but that won't be necessary," he said kindly, "We were actually hoping to learn about what happened here."

"Oh!" BB said, and released the balloon, which rocketed around the room as helium spurted out with a _pfft!_ BB laughed at the sight, and then remembered why he was there.

"Is Marion awake? I want him to meet the new guy!" BB said excitedly.

Toy Bonnie leaned forward with interest.

"New guy?" he asked. BB nodded.

"Yeah! His name's Mike and he's kinda nice, I guess. He went into that office thingy, at the end of the hall," BB explained, pointing towards the way he came from.

"Ah hah! So that's where he is! C'mon guys!" Toy Freddy ordered, and lead Toy Chica, Toy Bonnie, and Mangle towards the Security Office. Chica moved in front to block them.

"Uh… Maybe we should all go together?" she suggested. Foxy stepped next to her, nodding in agreement.

"Aye, tha' would be best, we'll introduce ya," Foxy said. The Toy animatronics nodded, not caring one way or the other. Foxy and Chica exchanged a glance then continued towards the office, Freddy and Bonnie following behind.

* * *

Mike watched the animatronics, both Toy and Normal, interact with each other, noting the large amount of hugging that occurred.

_It's almost like they remember each other,_ Mike thought, _Or they're really friendly. Either way, better than what usually happens to us._

Mike then noticed the group start heading towards the Office, and reflexively became nervous. He wasn't sure how the Toys would react to a human, since he had learned from before that people were perceived very differently by Fazbear animatronics.

Chica and Foxy were leading the way, trying to give Mike some comforting smiles, but even they looked nervous. It seemed to be going well, until Toy Bonnie made full eye contact. The jovial green eyes suddenly darkened, little LED pinpricks replacing it, and the smile dropped from his face.

"Hey!" he said, voice losing the happy quality, "Get away from our kids!"

Mike gulped, incredibly confused. Chica and Foxy turned, confused as well. The other Toy animatronics changed one by one, eyes turning black.

"I thought I told you to leave!" Toy Bonnie screeched, and lunged forward towards Mike. He was stopped in mid-air by Foxy, who forcibly knocked him to the ground. He screeched in surprise, and looked up at Foxy, eyes green again.

"What? Did I run into you? Gosh, I'm sorry," he said, "Are you okay? I-," Toy Bonnie looked at Mike again, and his eyes turned black again.

"Hey!" he ordered once more, "Get away from our kids! Predator!"

Toy Bonnie lunged forward again and Foxy blocked him, overpowering the smaller animatronic.

"Mike! Tha mask!" Foxy said as the other Toy animatronics (and Mangle) began advancing as well, being held back by Freddy, Bonnie, and Chica. Mike quickly donned the Freddy head and sat tensed up to run. The Toy animatronics kept advancing.

"They saw him do it! Quick, break eye contact!" Freddy ordered, and they each pulled a Toy animatronic to the ground, forcing them to look at them. Their eyes immediately returned to normal, and they looked up, confused.

"What happened? Did I fall? Goodness, I'm so clumsy," Toy Freddy said, getting up from under Freddy.

"Ouch!" Toy Chica said, "I'm sorry Bonnie!" Bonnie helped Toy Chica stand up.

"_Byzzrt,_" Mangle said apologetically, untangling herself from Chica and climbing back onto the ceiling. Mike watched her, terrified.

"Did I run into you again?" Toy Bonnie asked Foxy, who hoisted the rabbit to his feet, "I don't know what's wrong with me tonight. You're not mad, are you?"

Freddy, Bonnie, Chica, and Foxy all exchanged a nervous glance. Mike sat in silent fear, starting to sweat profusely underneath the Freddy head. Toy Chica noticed him. Her eyes remained normal.

"Hi! You must be Mike!" she greeted with a wave, "Are you related to Freddy? You have his face!"

"Uhhh…" Mike said, voice heavily muffled by the mask, "Sure… Yup…"

The Toy animatronics excitedly introduced themselves, practically climbing over each other (in Mangle's case, quite literally) to meet the quivering night guard. Toy Bonnie leaned over the desk with an outstretched paw.

"Hey new friend! I'm Bonnie, just like that Bonnie," Toy Bonnie said, pointing to Bonnie, "But I'm blue, not purple! Are you going to work here? You look like that one other guy that looked like Freddy. He was here a lot, but then he left. Wonder what happened to him…"

Toy Bonnie stared off into space, remembering, before realizing he hadn't shook Mike's hand yet, and did so with a surprising degree of gentleness. The blue rabbit then stepped aside so Toy Chica could get her turn. She waved.

"Hi Mike! I'm Chica, just like that Chica, only not as fat!" she said, oblivious to the insult. Chica shot a glare that the other chicken couldn't see. Mike awkwardly shook hands with Toy Chica, and the plastic chicken joined Toy Bonnie off to the side allowing Toy Freddy to approach.

"Hey there, buddy!" Toy Freddy greeted in his goofy voice, "I'm Freddy Fazbear, nice to meet'cha!" He grabbed Mike's hand in a firm handshake, nearly pulling the guard's arm out of its socket as the bear enthusiastically shook.

"Hello…" Mike replied nervously. Toy Freddy just beamed before stepping aside.

At first, Mike couldn't see anyone standing behind him, until a pink and white fox head dropped into his restricted view upside-down, grinning widely with a mouth of sharp teeth.

"_Tzzyrrtyxxxxzzt!_" it said, voice just a mess of static and what almost sounded like radio frequencies. Mike stared, disturbed by how torn apart Mangle was. Toy Bonnie stepped forward as the silence continued, Mangle hanging down expectedly.

"That's Mangle, and she says hello!" Toy Bonnie translated, "Don't worry about it, her voice box doesn't work right so she's hard to understand." Mangle nodded in confirmation, and leaned closer, snout bumping into the Freddy mask, single glowing eye filling most of Mike's restricted vision.

"_Gyzzrtxxyrtzz_?" she asked, blinking her one eye. Mike looked at Toy Bonnie for help.

"She's asking what's behind your face," Toy Bonnie translated, "Hey, that's not nice!"

Mangle garbled apologetically and crawled back into the hallway, watching Mike from a distance with an unblinking stare. The guard gulped audibly.

Then, a commanding voice rang out from the end of the hall.

"What is going on here?"

* * *

"What is going on here?" Marion asked, dangling from his track. Mangle turned to look at the puppet.

"_Zzzyrrxxt,_" she explained.

"What?" Marion asked.

"She says that the others are back!" BB translated, having followed Marion after waking him up. Marion froze.

_What!? No! How did they get here? _ he thought, panicked. He kept his outside demeanor calm.

"Oh really?" he asked, seeming almost bored by the news. He looked at the other animatronics.

"So they are!" Marion said, "It's good to see you again! And you've brought a new companion with you!" Freddy, Chica, Foxy, Bonnie, and Mike all stared at the puppet, never having seen anything like it before. Marion waited expectantly for one of them to say something, and when nothing came, continued.

"Why don't you all go to the Game Area and catch up?" Marion suggested, "I'd like to talk with our new friend here for a moment. Surely you don't mind?"

Freddy and the other Normal animatronics exchanged a nervous look.

"I'm no' so sure-," Foxy began, but Mangle interrupted him.

"_Gyrzzrt, byzrrtMarionkkzzzxxrt_," she explained. Foxy paused.

"Oh. If he be in charge…" Foxy said, "Best no' make him mad, aye?"

The other animatronics reluctantly agreed, and allowed themselves to be lead out of the Security Office by their Toy counterparts. Marion and Mike, still wearing the mask, watched them go. Once they disappeared from sight, Marion turned back to Mike, going to hang over the desk.

"You can take off the mask, I know you're a human," Marion told him. After a short pause, Mike complied, wiping away sweat with his forearm. The puppet leaned in close, causing Mike to shrink back into his chair.

"Listen to me, you _have _to get out of here, now!" Marion said. Mike's eyes widened, surprised.

"What? Why?" he asked.

"Isn't it obvious? You're in danger, the animatronics here have a facial recognition system linked up to an old criminal database," Marion explained. Mike furrowed his brow.

"I don't understand. I'm not a criminal," he pointed out. Marion sighed.

"Something went wrong with it, it glitches out, gives false positives," the puppet explained, "They attack people at random, not stopping until they're either dead or out of the restaurant. The mask is a good barrier, but the more you use it the more likely they are to see past it. And now that they know where you are, expect them to frequent the office more often.

"Actually, now that I think about it, we can't risk these guys getting outside either," Marion suddenly said, "Just try and last until six, they-we all charge in the morning. There are a bunch of messages recorded on the phone. Listen to them, it'll help you keep them away. Just make it to the morning, then _get out._"

Marion turned and began to wheel himself out of the office. Mike stood up.

"Wait! Why are you helping me?" he asked. Marion turned around.

"Because I can't let someone die again," he answered, and headed back towards the Prize Corner.

* * *

As Mike began playing the phone messages while keeping a watchful eye on the animatronics, Goldie snuck up to the side entrance. He needed to talk to Marion, and demand another favor to keep his hobby going. A yellow paw froze as it reached for the doorknob, finding the door ajar. He nudged it open and ducked his head inside.

Finding nothing, he slowly crept into the hall, closing the door behind him and locking it. Not wanting to get caught by whoever had broken in, the yellow bear hid in Parts and Service.

* * *

Foxy was starting to bore of the Game Area. There just wasn't much to _do_ there. Catching up with the Toy animatronics had been a one-sided conversation as they hadn't even been fully built while they were in the restaurant. He could have watched BB demonstrate his balloon making ability, but at the end of the day balloons just weren't that exciting. Foxy felt his pirate thirst of adventure begin to show. He wanted to explore more.

The fox wandered over to the Prize Corner, seeing Marion winding a sort of music box. The puppet nodded at him, watched the pirate for a few seconds, then resumed winding the crank. Foxy nodded in return and kept walking, looking for something remotely interesting. Movement in the corner of his eye provided this, and quickly turning his head Foxy could see a door close with a clack. The sign on the door read "Parts and Service."

Instantly curious, the pirate lowered in eye patch and opened the door cautiously, wondering who else was inside. It was quite possible one of the others had headed this way, but a part of Foxy told him to be wary. The inside was dark, predictably, but as the night vision adjusted, Foxy could make out a very familiar yellow bear. The memory came flooding back of a yellow Freddy pulling five children along behind him, heading for the Backstage as the others watched, unconcerned. They had learned the truth later, and vowed to never let another animatronic into the restaurant. And they remembered this one.

"Hey!" Foxy called out, "I remember ye!"

The bear looked up in surprise, and backed away, hands raised up at chest level.

"What the? You're not an animatronic here," the bear observed in a deep voice. Foxy nodded, taking a step forward.

"Aye, I'm no'. Ye go' us in a lo' o' trouble, Yella," Foxy said.

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about," the bear replied, continuing to inch backwards. Foxy advanced more.

"Aye, I remember ye… Yer the reason we attacked our night guards! Yer the reason we had all tha trouble in tha first place!" Foxy accused, connecting the dots in his head. It all made sense; all of the restaurant's troubles started with the yellow Freddy's appearance. By now, Golden Freddy had backed into an array of shelving, cornered. Foxy raised his hook.

"Well, looks like I can avenge fer tha strife ye caused us," he said. Golden began reaching behind his back.

"Come now, I'm sure we can come to an _agreement!_" Goldie shouted the last word and pulled a cattle prod out from behind him, thrusting it into Foxy. The first jab buried itself in Foxy's suit harmlessly, and the fox quickly recoiled backward. Goldie lunged again, with Foxy narrowly dodging and tackling the bear to the ground, widening the tears in his suit and losing the covering on his left ear. The prod fell out of the bear's hands and he let out a shout as he hit the ground.

Foxy was surprised how easily the bear was overpowered, but the victory was short lived when Goldie managed to recover the prod and shove it, end crackling with electricity, through one of the tears in the pirate's suit. Sparks flew from the contact site, overloading Foxy's systems, triggering the failsafe. The fox's eyes dimmed, and he froze, falling off to the side. Goldie stood up, dusting himself off and looking at the cattle prod.

"I knew that was a good investment, now let's see if we can fix that attitude problem," he said to himself, and wheeled out the programming computer. Fritz Smith, the guard who got fired immediately for tampering with the animatronics, was a technological prodigy and had left the script altering program he created loaded into the device.

Goldie opened up the back of the fallen fox's head, plugging in the upload cable and scanning through the data, using the program to simplify things. Awkwardly typing with his large fingers, the bear covered up the self-written disabling of the "Guard Dog" program and removing his description as part of the triggers, then adding an absolute command program. He disconnected the computer.

"That ought to do it," he said, and powered Foxy back on. The pirate's eyes flickered, and he shook his head, the hastily added program creating conflicts. He turned to Goldie.

"I don' be feelin' righ'," Foxy said, "Who are ye?"

_Perfect,_ Goldie thought.

"I'm a friend," Goldie replied, "Now can you help me out? I need you to bring the others you came with. By any means necessary."

Foxy twitched, eyes flickering again as more conflicts arose, but eventually he nodded, and headed out of Parts and Service.

* * *

The first animatronic he ran into was Bonnie, and a spasm shot through him as Goldie's request took precedence. Bonnie noticed.

"Foxy? You okay?" she asked, concerned. Foxy didn't reply, and instead shot out his good hand and grabbed Bonnie by the wrist, dragging her towards Parts and Service.

"What are you doing?" Bonnie asked nervously, starting to pull away. Foxy pulled harder, opening the door and forcing her inside. The rabbit spun around and saw Goldie standing with the cattle prod.

"You!" she said, and tried to back away, yanking her hand away and leaving Foxy clutching the suit covering that tore free. Bonnie paid no mind as she tried to push past Foxy, now fully aware something was wrong.

"Restrain her!" Goldie ordered, and after a long pause Foxy complied, trying to grab Bonnie with both hands. She dodged backwards, but Foxy's hook wound up lodged in the side of her head. For a brief second, Foxy's face bore an expression of complete shock, but his eyes flickered again and his face became determined. He began to try and pry his hook out, severing many of the pieces of Bonnie's suit and skull.

With a loud tearing sound and an explosion of sparks, the hook came free, taking Bonnie's face with it. Goldie seized this opportunity and jabbed the rabbit with the prod, electrocuting her and activating her failsafe as well. Bonnie fell to the floor face first with a crash. Foxy studied her, expression changing rapidly from horror to neutrality, before settling on the latter.

Goldie quickly loaded the same "fix" he constructed onto Bonnie, then reactivating her.

"Oooh, I don't feel so good," she said, pieces of her exposed endoskeleton moving randomly. Her LED eyes flickered, and she looked at Goldie.

"Go grab one of the others. Only two more now," Goldie ordered, prepping the cart and prod for the next victim.

* * *

Chica managed to finally get away from her Toy counterpart, who refused to leave her alone, by hiding out near the restrooms. She imitated a sigh of relief.

"Gosh she's annoying," Chica groaned, and sat appreciating the quiet. She saw Foxy round the corner and lock eyes with her, his yellow flickering as his head twitched. Chica frowned.

"Hey Foxy, you okay?" she asked. Foxy froze before slowly shaking his head, jerking left and right. Chica's jaw dropped when Bonnie went around as well, and muffled a shout.

The purple rabbit's entire face was gone, just a dark space from which her red LED eyes shone out of. The suit's lower teeth were still present, but that was it.

"Bonnie! What happened?" Chica asked, rushing to her friend's aid. She was surprised when Bonnie grabbed her and started dragging her towards the main room. She pulled out of her grip.

"What's gotten into you?" Chica demanded, and felt Foxy forcefully grab her shoulder and shove her towards Bonnie. Chica struggled to pull away, but proved to no avail as she was grabbed by each arm by Bonnie and Foxy and dragged towards Parts and Service.

As soon as the door was opened and Chica saw Goldie standing in the middle of the room, the chicken immediately began putting up a fight. She dug her heels into the floor and kicked out as hard as she could, temporarily shaking off Bonnie and Foxy. Chica locked eyes with Goldie's empty sockets.

"_You!_" she screeched, and went to lunge at him, but was caught by Foxy and Bonnie. Chica growled, and kept trying to get Goldie, pulling hard against Foxy and Bonnie's grip. Foxy and Bonnie pulled back. This violent tug of war ended with the sound of grinding metal and tearing fabric as Chica's arms were torn off at the elbow joint.

The chicken paid no mind, focused entirely on the yellow bear in front of her. She lunged at him again, severed arms forced out in front of her. Goldie managed to dodge out of the way and Chica landed face first onto the wall, damaging her beak as she couldn't catch herself with her arms. The cattle prod came shortly afterward, and Chica tried to hold on as long as possible, but her failsafe overrode her intentions and shut her down to avoid permanent CPU damage. Goldie hooked up the computer.

"Only one more left," he said. Bonnie and Foxy twitched, Foxy's expression changing in an endless loop. Chica came online again after a few minutes, and the three reprogrammed animatronics strode back out into the restaurant.

* * *

Freddy had noticed the odd disappearance of Bonnie, Chica, and Foxy, and was on edge. The Toy animatronics tried to comfort him, assuring the bear that everything was fine and that they were just exploring. The band leader didn't agree with them, and wasn't surprised when Chica found him and he saw she was damaged.

"Oh no," he said simply, "I knew something was wrong." Freddy watched sadly as Foxy and Bonnie met up with Chica, wordlessly acknowledging his presence. Bonnie and Foxy grabbed him and started pulling him towards Parts and Service, while the Toy animatronics looked on, incredibly confused.

Freddy shook off his friends-turned-captors and opened the door to Parts and Service himself. He was greeted by Golden Freddy. Anger built up within Freddy as he saw his yellow counterpart.

"We meet again," Freddy said. Goldie nodded.

"We certainly do," Goldie replied, and nodded to the others. Foxy and Bonnie grabbed Freddy by each arm while Chica blocked the doorway. Freddy looked at them sadly, then turned back to Goldie, face full of defiance.

"Go ahead. I'm not fighting my family," Freddy said, and stayed still as Goldie jabbed him with the prod, disabling him. A few minutes later, and the leader was back on his feet, freshly reprogrammed.

"Who brought you here?" Goldie asked Bonnie.

"A night guard," she answered, voice empty of emotion, "He's in the security office."

"I see..." Goldie replied, then pointed towards the door, "Take care of him."

The animatronics sat, twitching and flickering, until finally nodding in unison and walking out the door.

* * *

"Fuck, no! No, no, no!" Mike cursed, having watched everything that had happened since Chica got captured, and his spirit fell when Freddy walked out with them. He yanked off his cap and set the Freddy mask on his lap, keeping it within easy reach. The tablet sat ready and waiting on his desk and his flashlight primed in Mike's right. Instinct kicked in, and the guard's faced hardened, finger tapping rapidly through the cameras. It was back to the beginning now, and the only saving grace would be six o'clock, when he could escape and hopefully get help. He lingered on the Parts and Service feed, seeing the yellow Freddy stand around fiddling with the cattle prod.

"Alright, you yellow freak," Mike muttered, "You want to play this game? Fine. Let's play, because I can go all night."

_**A/N: Well, I'm just going to walk into this bunker here and brace myself, since this series has probably just gotten the darkest it's been. Welcome aboard the Cerebus Rollercoaster ladies and gentleman, keep your hands and arms inside the ride vehicle at all times and hold on tight, because we're all going for a ride.**_

_**-DeltaV "This damn coaster better not have any loops!"**_

_**Oh, quick little thingy, Mangle's voice box does not make complete sentences. Her dialogue is in italics as that is just animatronic translation, sort of like how Russians in movies speak English when they're alone: They're technically speaking Russian, but speak English in order to keep the audience from having to read blocks of subtitles. Same thing with Mangle. **_


	8. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven: Survive the Night

Mike sat tensed in the office chair, uncertain of how Freddy and the others would react. Considering how they treated each other after that yellow bear got a hold of them, he imagined it wouldn't be a good thing. Mike tapped through the cameras, watching Bonnie approach with slow, heavy steps. He was still in shock after seeing her face get torn off, warping the kind rabbit into a terrifying abomination.

A minute later, Bonnie stepped into the hallway, red eyes glowing faintly in the darkness. Mike quickly pulled on the Freddy mask, and sat, waiting and hoping he wasn't caught. Bonnie stared, twitching slightly, before walking into the office. She stood just inside the doorway, LED eyes flickering, before turning and walking away, following the faint sound of a music box that began playing in the distance.

Mike sighed in relief, and began tapping through the cameras again. The Prize Corner caught his attention, as the puppet was staring into the lens. As he accessed the feed, Marion spoke.

"Wind the box!" he said, "It'll distract them for a while."

Mike nodded and pressed a circle labeled "Wind the Music Box", hearing a sped-up version of the box's jingle and watching the meter fill. Letting go allowed a cheerful tinkling melody to play out. Through the camera, Mike could see Mangle clamber over on the ceiling and hang down over the box, swaying slightly to the music.

"_Zzzyrrt,_" she said softly, continuing to sway for a short while longer before crawling away to go do something else. That's when Mike realized he couldn't find Toy Bonnie.

Scanning through the cameras, Mike jumped a little bit in his seat when he found inside the right air vent, crawling towards the camera that had been mounted there. He quickly put on the Freddy mask, watching as Toy Bonnie's head poked out of the large, open vent. The rabbit looked up at Mike.

"Hi Mike! Look what I found in here!" Toy Bonnie lifted up a metal screw, "It's the screw for Mangle's jaw! She's been looking for it _forever_!" He climbed out and slowly stood up, holding his discovery proudly. Then he frowned at Mike, studying the mask.

"Something doesn't seem right about your face, if you don't mind me saying," Toy Bonnie observed, "Oh well, maybe it's just me." The lights in the office began to flicker, the decades-old wiring prone to faulting. This quick flickering gave almost a strobe-like effect, with Toy Bonnie appearing as if he was teleporting across the room, before suddenly disappearing into the darkness of the hallway.

"Hi Foxy!" Mike heard the rabbit greet, and a chill ran over him. Foxy could see through the mask.

Straining his eyes, he could make out Foxy's yellow ones glowing at the end of the hall, flickering slightly and dancing about has the fox twitched. Thinking quickly, Mike pulled out his flashlight and rapidly began flicking it on and off, aiming it at Foxy's face. The pirate threw up an arm to shield his eyes and backed away down the hall, disoriented.

"Blast it!" he cursed, "I can' see!" This was followed by a distant crash. Mike sighed in relief again, and turned back to the tablet.

* * *

Goldie paced back and forth inside Parts and Service, frustrated by the lack of progress his new "friends" had made. He growled softly to himself, and threw the door open, walking quickly towards the Prize Corner and pounding on Marion's gift box. A _click_ sounded, followed by a whir, and Marion rose up out of the box, being pulled by the wires.

"What do _you_ want?" Marion asked, crossing his arms.

"Your robots," Goldie replied, "Activate the security protocol."

Marion shook his head.

"I'm not helping you kill that guard! You know that doubles their aggression, they start patrolling the place for God's sake," Marion explained.

Goldie grabbed the puppet by the neck.

"Do it, or I tell everyone the truth about you," Goldie threatened, "Including your precious animatronics. Tell me, how will they react to a murderer?"

"You tell me, they've seen you. You're lucky you kept that suit," Marion shot back.

"At least I don't hide in some box," Goldie immediately fired back, "Or do you want me to send them all over? I'm sure our night guard friend would like to know about you. And perhaps my new assistants remember you. Maybe even the parents. You know I know where they all are, each of the five's. Do you want that?"

Marion paused, before slowly nodding.

"Fine. You always were a terrible person," Marion told the bear. Goldie laughed.

"Well, as the saying goes, you can pick your friends but you can't pick your family," he said, and walked back towards Parts and Service. Marion sighed, before shouting as loud as he could:

"Attention everyone! A predator has been spotted in the restaurant!" the puppet declared, before sinking back into his box.

* * *

Toy Freddy and Toy Chica looked at each other.

"Predator?" Toy Chica asked, "We gotta search the place!" Freddy nodded in agreement.

"Let's go, we'll tell the others," he said, and began patrolling the pizzeria.

* * *

Bonnie's brain was in chaos. Nothing she did seemed to make sense, and her logic couldn't figure things out. When she walked into the security office, part of her saw the animatronic sitting there as a human, while the other part saw a completely normal robot. The interpretations switched back and forth rapidly, and she had to leave to stop the errors that kept stacking up. Then she felt compelled to search there again, for reasons the rabbit couldn't determine.

When she entered, the being's bear-shaped head wasn't on, and the rabbit had a sudden moment of clarity.

"Mike! Help me! I don't know what's going o-," Bonnie interrupted herself, "What are you doing without a suit? That's against the rules!"

"Shit!" Mike swore, and threw the head on, but Bonnie wasn't convinced, and yanked it off, throwing it to the floor.

"Let's get you back in uniform," Bonnie said, and began carrying the guard down the hall.

"Bonnie! It's me! It's Mike! I'm not an endoskeleton, remember?" Mike pleaded; Bonnie stopped walking and stared at him, encouraging him to continue, "Remember the mall? The drawings you made for my parents?"Bonnie paused, and then slowly shook her head before continuing down the hall with slow, deliberate steps.

"No, no, no! Bonnie, please, don't kill me! It's me, god damn it, _it's me!_" Mike screamed the last two words, beating at Bonnie's arm. He was suddenly dropped, falling to the floor. Looking up, he could see Bonnie twitching madly, her entire body quivering. With much jerkier motions than normal, Bonnie forced herself to face him.

"M-m-ike… Run… quick… can't… stop…" she stammered, and Mike took the hint, bolting for the office and throwing the Freddy head on. Seconds later Bonnie came bounding in, again stopping and staring at Mike in his mask, and again leaving without a sound, prompting another sigh of relief from Mike.

"Too close, way too close," Mike said to himself, pulling off the Freddy head and wiping his sweaty face on his sleeve.

* * *

"_There's a predator?_" Mangle asked, hanging upside down over BB in the Game Area.

"That's what Freddy said," BB replied, "I never got why you guys go after them. Are they trouble?"

Mangle nodded.

"_Big trouble,_" she replied, "_Come on, we need to search around._"

Mangle clambered across the ceiling, setting a quick pace and going from room to room, looking for anything suspicious, BB following behind her curiously. It was almost as if Mangle became a different animatronic all together when patrolling around, not getting distracted easily and staying totally silent aside from the occasional intercepted radio signal caused by her damaged systems. The pair of them came across an air vent, located on the East side of the building.

"You don't think he hid out in the vents, do you?" BB asked Mangle. She put her bare hand to her chin, mimicking an expression of deep thought as her logic pondered the question.

"_I guess, want to check this one?_" she asked. BB nodded eagerly, wanting to help where he could.

"Sure!" he replied. Mangle nodded and reached down to pat BB on the head.

"_Be careful. I'll go to the other side,_" she explained, and crawled away. BB mimicked an expression he had seen serious-looking people outside make and climbed into the vent. Soon the excitement of helping took over, and his face wore a happy grin.

Disappointingly, there was no predator in the vents, or really anywhere it seems. He did come across Mike though, spying the tablet in his hands.

"The glowy thing!" BB exclaimed, and pulled it out of Mike's startled hands.

"Hey!" the guard protested, "Give that back!" BB ignored him, tapping at the screen.

"What's this do? Oooh, what's _this_ do?" BB asked himself as he played with the tablet, going from camera to camera.

"You little shit!" Mike swore, and grabbed at the tablet. He missed, BB ducking out of his reach before holding it up with the screen pointed at Mike. It showed Mangle, staring quizzically at the active security camera.

"Look! It's Mangle!" BB said, pointing. Mike gasped and threw the Freddy mask on, and just in time too as Mangle climbed out of the vent and scaled the wall up to the ceiling. She looked at Mike and BB.

"_Either of you find anything_?" she asked.

"What?" Mike asked nervously, having only heard static. BB, on the other hand, simply shook his head.

"Nope. Just Mike here, and he wears this cool mask!" BB said, and reached for the Freddy head. Mike swatted the robot away.

"No! Not my face!" Mike shouted, fending off the small balloon vender. Mangle stopped them.

"_Come on, BB, leave him alone. It's hard enough for him to catch that predator without you pestering him_," she scolded. BB stopped immediately, staring at his shoes.

"Oh. Right. Sorry Mike," BB apologized, before exiting the office with Mangle. Mike sighed from under the mask.

"I can't handle this," he muttered, shining the flashlight down the hall and finding nothing.

* * *

_Something, something isn't right,_ Freddy thought to himself, although he wasn't certain what it was. He felt… confused, stuff didn't make sense. One minute he'd head straight for the office like it was his sole purpose, and the next he wasn't sure who he was. The only thing he could tell for sure was that something was definitely wrong, but couldn't remember what.

Chica walked past him, eyes locked in the direction of the Security Office, long wires dangling from her severed forearms. It was here Freddy ran into another… difficulty. His memory seemed spotty, which troubled him because he couldn't remember what happened to Chica. He remembered all the times from when the restaurant was open, and dealing with the suitless animatronics after… something happened, and the bird was fine then. But there seemed to be a large piece that he couldn't access, every time he did he would feel compelled to go to the Security Office and check on the animatronic in there. Details such as how the bear got here (he was positive this wasn't the same place he had spent his entire existence in) fell in that category. It became increasingly frustrating, and seemed to be causing more and more issues.

The spasms that occurred increased in frequency and intensity. Sometimes he would stall for almost ten seconds, nothing working whatsoever, until the moment passed. Freddy wasn't sure what was wrong, but he did know that he had to find out in order to fix not only himself but the others as well.

* * *

_Gah! Stop… Going… In… There… Me!_ Chica screamed inwardly at herself. Goldie's sloppy patch had a different effect on Chica. Unlike the others, who just couldn't figure out what they were supposed to do or what had happened to them, Chica did. And part of her remained in the state even as the rest of her did whatever the programming asked. She did her best to fight it, and actually thought she was winning until she caught Mike without the mask on. The programming took over, every part of Chica (even the conscious part) wanted to catch the guard.

She screeched, jumping at him. Mike screamed, and kicked away from the desk, rolling into the back wall of the office. That saved his life, as even though Chica had ran into the desk she could have still reached him. The guard panicked, fight or flight kicking in as adrenaline pumped into his system. And as Mike had nowhere to go, he choose to fight, and searched desperately for a weapon. Mounted on the back wall in a case was a fire extinguisher, much like at the other location.

The lock had broken years ago, and Mike yanked the door open and jerked the extinguisher free of its housing. Chica began trying to climb over the desk with her severed hands. They locked eyes, and Mike visibly inhaled, eyes watering slightly, before swinging the heavy metal cylinder across Chica's face as hard as he could.

The impact could be heard across the restaurant, a savage deep _clang_. Static burst across Chica's vision as her optics took in the impact, and even though she knew that _had_ to have done damage, she found herself having a clearer mind. She still uselessly flailed at the guard, wires whipping around. Mike swung again. _Clang._ And again. _Clang._ Mike raised the now dented cylinder for another blow, but the third one had, somehow, sorted Chica out, and she backed up.

"Whoa, whoa, stop!" Chica said, raising her severed forearms. Mike stopped mid blow, nearly dropping the fire extinguisher as he tried to halt its momentum.

"Chica?" he asked, still holding the red cylinder in a ready stance.

"Yes, it's me. I'm okay now, I think," she said, shaking her head. Loosened metal bits fell to the floor, and Mike examined the damage he caused.

Chica's lower jaw was nearly severed, and her eyes had been knocked closer to the edge of her suit's eye sockets, protruding ever so slightly. The side of her mouth sparked once, and did not move when she talked, the motor connections destroyed. Chica tested moving her mouth, feeling no response. She looked at Mike.

"It's bad, isn't it?" she asked. Mike nodded grimly.

"And… Your arms," he said, pointing to the dangling wires. Chica shot him a glance.

"Yeah, that was the first thing I noticed," Chica replied drily, "Well, good job slugger. Really did a number."

Mike dropped the extinguisher onto the desk.

"You did sort of attack me," Mike reminded, guilty for fighting. Chica shrugged.

"Eh, true. Kind of hard to be mad when I can just be put back together," Chica added, "Glad to see you stopped wimping out on us. I'd hug you but, difficulties." Chica wiggled her arms for emphasis. The joke got a grin out of the guard, but it quickly fell.

"What about the others?" Mike asked.

"What about 'em? You still got your fixing fire extinguisher. Just go smack 'em," Chica suggested.

"I don't want to break them more. Especially Bonnie," Mike said, and scratched his head, "Well, at least we know you _can_ be brought back. Who's the yellow bear?" Chica did her best to scowl.

"Remember how we started patrolling for endoskeletons?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"He's why," Chica explained, "Got in the restaurant, we ignored it since he looked like a robot, then next thing we knew we were in trouble and police were everywhere." Mike's eyes widened.

"He's the serial killer, the one from those newspaper articles!" Mike exclaimed, before sitting down and rubbing his face, "Holy shit it's a serial killer. But I thought he got caught."

"No. He didn't," a new voice suddenly said, and Marion rolled in suspended on his track. "You forgot about the music box, wind it and distract the others, then I'll try and explain everything."

* * *

Goldie knew he'd be alone for a good while, and reached up to his head, pulling it off. It revealed a handsome face, cheekbones slightly hollowed out from stress and sickness. His blue eyes were ringed with dark circles and a good layer of scraggly stubble covered his lower face. The man's skin was pale from spending so much time inside or in the Golden Freddy suit. He wiped sweat away with the suit's paw.

"Why is it so difficult to kill one man?" he asked the bare endoskeleton laying in a corner of Parts and Service. It imitated a scoff.

"Don't blame me. I don't do anything," Eddy replied gruffly. "Goldie" chuckled.

"Testy tonight, are we?" he teased.

"Don't talk to me," Eddy shot back, "Let me rot in peace."

"I suppose that's agreeable," "Goldie" said, "But I mean, why's this guy so special? Hm? What sets him apart? My new friends are no strangers to attacking night guards, but this guy's just like that Fitzgerald kid. Shame what happened to him."

"Shut up," Eddy complained. "Goldie" continued unabated.

"Arrested, getting blamed for something _I_ did. I almost feel bad, he had no idea I was there, what with the other animatronics trying to kill him. Beautiful little bit of technology that facial recognition system is. Just take a picture and add it in, and you were Golden. No pun intended," "Goldie" added, chuckling again.

"I wish I could see you so I could smack you," Eddy groaned, and threw himself off the cart, crawling in the general direction of a vent.

"Where are you going?" "Goldie" asked in a bored voice.

"If you're not going to let me enjoy my slow absolute destruction, then I'm going to do it somewhere else!" Eddy shouted over his shoulder. He crawled into a ventilation shaft at the far corner of Parts and Service. "Goldie" put his head back on.

"Suit yourself. _Eddy,_" he said.

"That's not my name!" Eddy complained loudly as he began crawling through the vents.

* * *

"Wait, wait, so there were _two_ sets of five children dead?" Mike asked. Marion nodded.

"Yes. And both times someone else took the fall," Marion explained, "The first time it was one of the night guards. He was lucky that new evidence proved his innocence, but he still spent over a year in prison. The second time it was a known child molester. He's still locked up."

Chica had moved to stand in the doorway, discouraging any of the other animatronics to walk into the hall. Mike wore the Freddy mask, just to be safe. Mike was confused.

"How do you know all of this?" Mike asked. Marion sighed.

"I… helped," he admitted, sounding as if he was bracing for a punch to the face.

"You _helped_?" Chica exclaimed, "Mike, get away from him!"

"I had no choice! He had my family!" Marion shouted defensively, "It's haunted me forever. That's why I've tried helping others to keep from dying in this place. Even you."

Mike had backed up, all trust in the puppet gone.

"I don't know you," Mike pointed out. Marion nodded.

"Yes you do. You've heard my voice before," Marion said, "Many times."

Mike thought hard, then his eyes slowly widened, and his jaw fell open.

"Oh my god," Mike gasped, "You mean you're…" Marion nodded again.

"Maybe you recognize this: Hello? Hello? Uh, I wanted to record a message for you on your first night," Marion said.

* * *

_**A/N: Hello all. Certainly a lot has been revealed, but I imagine it also raises more questions. The plot is thickening like milk being poured into liquid nitrogen. Sorry this took so long, sort of squirreled a bit and began writing the Choose Your Own Adventure on DeviantART. Thanks for reading, and I shall see you in the next chapter! –DeltaV "For those unaware, that milk is now ice cream."**_


	9. Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight: The Ballad of Phone Guy

"But… _how_?" Mike asked, "You're dead! I heard you die!"

Marion, or rather, Phone Guy shook his head.

"I'm not dead. The animatronics didn't kill me that night," he replied.

Chica turned around, remembering Phone Guy's last shift.

"Yeah. We broke into the office, and he just started spazzing out all over the place. We figured he shorted out, since we thought he was an endo at the time," Chica said, then turned back to keep watch.

Phone Guy nodded to Chica, then turned back to Mike.

"Look, I can explain everything," Phone Guy said, and began his story, "I suppose the biggest question is to why I helped with the murders, so consider this my confession…"

Phone Guy, real name Phil Garrison, a short man with a wiry frame, rounded face, short blonde hair and light blue eyes, walked around the first Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, which was just finishing its first month of business. It had a rather shaky opening, but as word spread about how unique the place was, more and more people began to attend. Phil had been signed on as head of the place's security, as Animatronics Limited felt that having so many children and families grouped together in one place could spell disaster if anything bad happened. He had three other guards working for him: Scott Riley, Warren Peabody, and new hire Jeremy Fitzgerald.

Scott and Warren were the day guards, mostly providing a sense of security for the families visiting the restaurant, keeping an eye out for any suspicious behavior and making sure the animatronics didn't have any dangerous malfunctions or were damaged. Jeremy was brought in to work the night shift, one that proved to be dangerous. Scott had taken the first night shift, and noted the odd behavior of the animatronics, which were allowed to roam freely to amuse themselves. After his first week, Scott had compiled a comprehensive list of things that actually made the night shift a little bit dangerous. The facial recognition was screwy, and one night the animatronics had actually thrown Scott out of the restaurant, refusing to let him back in on the accusation of him being a predator ("Sorry, buddy, but not in _my_ restaurant," Freddy had said).

Now obviously, having the guards forcibly ejected from the restaurant proved to be a poor way of keeping watch, so Phil decided to record a bunch of advice to help Jeremy out based on the ideas Scott had, as well as a disguise. Phil spent his lunch break calling the office's answering machine in order to leave a message, and that night Jeremy went to work.

The next day, Phil called him at home to check up on how his night had went.

"Fine," came his simple reply, "A little creepy, but nothing I couldn't handle."

After the phone call, a sharp knock sounded on the door frame to the Security Office. Phil looked up, and froze, face hardening.

"Hello, cousin," the visitor said, combing his shaggy blonde hair off of his forehead. He had always been tall and lanky with a sickly pallor to his complexion, which only detracted slightly from his near-movie star handsome face. He wore a slightly frayed green long sleeve shirt, jeans with a small tear over his left knee, and brown boots stained with mud.

Phil leaned back slightly in his chair.

"What do you want, Gerald?"

"Drugs, money, the usual," Gerald replied sarcastically with a smirk, before suddenly dropping all expression.

Gerald Farrow was Phil's distant cousin, brought into his life when he was institutionalized in a psychiatric hospital at seventeen that just so happened to be in the same town Phil had grown up in. Gerals's parents refused to take him back after he was deemed cured by the hospital, so he had spent the last several years shadowing his older cousin. One could tell immediately that there was something definitely wrong with Gerald, from just the aura that seemed to surround him.

Phil had found out that Gerald had enjoyed shooting birds, rabbits, and other critters when he lived on his family's farm with a BB gun, and had created different games with the sport. Gerald had told him. But as he grew up, that clearly didn't satisfy him. He loved dissections in Biology and he frequently would perform his own on the aforementioned animals. He was always plotting, and for some reason tried to get Phil involved. In his own odd way, Gerald respected Phil, simultaneously doing what he asked and not, and now it seemed apparent that he wanted to get Phil involved again.

"I want your help, Phil," Gerald said after a short pause. Phil frowned.

"With what? I'm not going to, uh, kidnap a dog for you or, uh, something," Phil replied, anxiety trickling in slightly. He had always had problems with anxiety. Gerald grinned humorlessly.

"No, no, _bigger_," Gerald said, holding his hands a distance apart for emphasis, "I need you to let me in Parts &amp; Service."

"_What_? What do you need in there? What are you planning, Gerald?" Phil demanded. Loud laughter sounded from a party room and Gerald's grin dropped, his expression darkening.

"Children…" Gerald growled, "I hate kids, always yelling, screaming, _laughing_!" He calmed himself, "Well no matter, that will be solved once you help me tonight."

Phil's eyes widened.

"No…" Phil said, slowly shaking his head, "No, no, Gerald… I mean, dogs and cats are one thing, but… _kids?_ You know what I have to do, right?" Phil picked up the phone, but Gerald reached over and slammed it back into its cradle.

"Touch the fucking phone again and you're _dead!_" Gerald screamed, eyes wild. Phil slowly lifted his hand. Gerald combed his hair back into place, clearing his throat to try and regain his composure.

"I figured you wouldn't be… _supportive_ of my little project, so I decided you might need a little… motivation," Gerald said darkly, and picked up the phone, offering it to Phil, "Why don't you call Mom?"

"You didn't…" Phil said.

"Or did I? Dial and find out," Gerald said, shaking the phone temptingly. Phil grabbed and quickly dialed his mother's home phone. Mrs. Garrison had Phil, her only child, at an older age, and had retired two years after he left community college. She also looked after Gerald when he left the hospital. She wasn't very social, happy to just sit at home and read.

It rang for a long while, until the answering machine picked up.

"_Hello, you've reached the Garrison house. Please leave a message!_" the recording of Mrs. Garrison said. Phil looked up at Gerald.

"What did you do to her?" he asked, hanging up the phone.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Gerald taunted, "Help me with this, and I'll tell you. Try _anything_, and you'll bury her."

Phil gulped.

"Fine."

**7 Hours Later**

Phil had to think quickly, as he couldn't let Jeremy see what was going on, so he had to be in and out before midnight. That gave him only an hour between the janitors leaving and Jeremy arriving to start his shift. His uniform, he noted as he walked up to the front door, almost seemed a comical shade of purple in the moonlight.

_Must be something in the material_, Phil thought, and he waited until Gerald arrived.

Together they both walked into Parts and Services and Phil watched as Gerald examined the suits. They were mainly replacements for the fox in Kid's Cove, which after constantly getting torn apart by children had gained the nickname "Mangle," as that was the state she was usually in at the end of the day. Then Gerald found a robot sitting in the corner, wearing a dingy yellow version of Freddy.

"The hell is this?" Gerald asked Phil.

"I don't know… Fredbear, maybe? There was this other place that the company ended up buying character rights to or something. Guess they took it with them," Phil replied.

"Kind of looks like a golden Freddy," Gerald said, "It's perfect!"

Gerald and Phil carefully took the suit off of the robot skeleton and slipped back outside.

**The Next Day (Day Three of Jeremy's First Week)**

Phil was nervous. Gerald hadn't said anything upon finding the suit, just staring at it with an odd half-smile. He never lost it as the two of them packed the suit into his car, never lost it as he drove away, and most likely still kept the small smile the rest of the night. When Jeremy walked by, Phil freaked out momentarily, fearing he had been discovered.

"H-hey Jeremy, uh, how was your second night?" Phil asked. Jeremy shrugged.

"Fine. Hey, do we keep a spare endoskeleton? This one came out of nowhere when I let that music box unwind. Guess he liked the song or something," Jeremy said, taking a long draught of the Freddy's soda cup in his hand, "Well, I'm gonna check up with the guys then head on home. Catch you on the flip side, Phil."

"Y-yeah, uh, the flip side," Phil replied, relieved he hadn't been caught.

Jeremy's constant cool and collected demeanor might seem out of place considering he was basically attacked by the robots each night, but performance under pressure was Jeremy's main talent. He had spent a stint in the military as an EOD tech for two years before a blast nearly left him without a left foot. The injury gave him a foot full of metal screws and a ticket out of the army. Phil hadn't been able to get more out of him than that, only looking up his service record as part of the background check. The guard didn't like to talk about it, mainly because he viewed it as nothing special. Phil nervously waited for the rest of the day, Gerald remained under the radar.

**Day Four of Jeremy's First Week**

He saw him. Phil finally saw Gerald and figured out his plan. Gerald had apparently spent all of yesterday meticulously removing every intrusive wire and cross bar in the suit while still keeping the original shape. The animatronic's eye lenses, which were like "amplifying" windows for the LED eyes they actually used to see, as well as conveying expression, were still in place and gave the imposter a hard time. Gerald frequently ran into the corners of walls and tables. As he walked around and talked with children, it took everything to keep Phil from intervening. He had even sent his day guards off on some errand.

The animatronics, on the other hand, weren't suspicious at all. Bonnie walked up, exchanged pleasantries, shook hands, and went on his way. Mangle had even been drawn out from the madness of Kid's Cove, still in one piece and fully-suited with a small child latched to her leg, to meet with "the new guy."

"So you're the new person everyone's talking about," she said in a feminine yet still surprisingly deep voice. It wasn't surprising, the original character was going to be a pirate before the concept was deemed "too scary," although plans were being made to implement him later. Dolls were being made as a promotion as a matter of fact.

"That's right," Gerald replied, voice muffled by the suit. Mangle cocked her head.

"Hmm. You might want to get your voice box checked later today, you're kind of quiet," she observed, "Anyway, what's your name? Mine's Fiona, Fiona Fox, but most of the staff calls me Mangle."

Gerald paused a moment, thinking up a name.

"Um… Goldie. My name's Goldie," Gerald replied quickly. Mangle smiled.

"Welcome to the family, Goldie. If you need anything, let me know!" and with that the pink and white fox disappeared through the door to Kid's Cove, the small child still swinging on her leg.

Phil couldn't take it anymore. This was so incredibly wrong the security supervisor felt it deep in his gut. He snuck over to Gerald.

"I've changed my mind, I can't let you do this," he said to the costume. Gerald whirled around, fake animatronic eyes staring.

"That wasn't our agreement Phil," he reminded, "Now go watch my back. It's time to make my play. You know what's at stake." Gerald walked over to a group of kids and began chatting with them.

Phil looked away, torn between letting what will happen, happen, and doing his job as head of security. Freddy walked by, carefully balancing a tray with a birthday cake on it, heading for the table of children Gerald was at.

"Hello!" he greeted Phil cheerfully, "A nice lady gave me this cake to deliver." Freddy pointed to the table with his free hand.

"Oh, uh, I'll help you out," Phil said, and led the bear to a different table. He seemed confused.

"But I thought-," he began, again pointing to the table Gerald was standing by.

"But, uh, these kids look sad," Phil interrupted, "You don't, uh, want them to be sad, right?" Freddy shook his head.

"No, of course not!" he replied quickly, and both he had Phil handed out the cake. Every few seconds Phil shot a glance at Gerald, finally noting that he seemed to have left the room. Some of the chairs at the table were empty too. Phil gulped, and felt sick.

**The Next Day**

Phil shoved his head into a trash can and retched, dry heaving several times before pulling his head out again. They had been found. Oh God, they found them. Phil couldn't take the guilt anymore and quietly tipped off the police, who immediately searched the restaurant. It didn't take long to find the evidence. When the slightly shell-shocked officer reported his findings, Phil immediately vomited, more from guilt than disgust.

_They're going to find me,_ Phil suddenly thought, _They'll catch Gerald and they'll find me._ He needed to do something to throw them off the scent. He racked his brain, and finally came to a grim conclusion.

_Jeremy_, Phil finally decided. The innocent guard had a lot stacked against him. The glitched facial recognition that flagged him as a predator would be enough evidence, and it only seemed to get worse since he started working there. In reality, Gerald had most likely messed with it to keep the robots off of his back while he… did what he did, but the law wouldn't know the difference and Jeremy couldn't prove the contrary. So when the officer approached him for questioning…

"I, uh, saw one of our guards, uh, hanging out with the kids a lot during the day," Phil lied, "I could tell, uh, because of our purple uniforms." He gestured to the dark blue security attire, which appeared purple in the fluorescent lighting.

"And, uh, apparently our robot's facial recognition software flags him as a predator. He, uh, works the night shift, so I guess he'd have the place to himself if he wanted to, uh, to do, um, _that_. We thought it was a glitch at first, but I guess it wasn't," Phil finished. The officer had nodded a few times as he scribbled down Phil's theory. He looked up, snapping his notebook closed and putting it in his breast pocket.

"Thank you, Mr. Garrison. We'll call you if we have any more questions," he said, and walked out.

"O-of course. Hap-happy to help," Phil replied, and sighed in relief as the officer walked away.

**Day Six of Jeremy's First Week**

Phil sat at his desk staring off into space. They were closing the place down, the victims' families each suing the restaurant after discovering that the perpetrator was one of Freddy's employees. Jeremy had, predictably, showed up right on time for his shift, dealing with the most aggressive animatronics yet, and most likely would arrive again tonight. Phil had left a message telling Jeremy not to worry about what was going on with the police, but now that everything was going wrong, there was no point in subjugating the poor guard to any more.

While he would never, ever complain about it, it was obvious that the increasingly dangerous guard job was starting to get to Jeremy. He seemed paler, had dark circles around his eyes, and jumped ever so slightly at sudden sounds. Some of the other employees asked what was wrong, to which Jeremy would simply shrug and reply, "Maybe I'm getting sick." That was it.

Phil decided that as a final act of good intent before the restaurant closed and everyone went their separate ways, he changed Jeremy's scheduling to working the day shift tomorrow. He also decided that tonight there didn't need to be a night guard, and gave Jeremy the night off to rest.

Several hours later, at midnight, Phil seemed uneasy. Something compelled him to check in at the restaurant, so Phil called the security office phone. After a few rings, somebody answered it.

"_Freddy Fazbear's Pizza_," Jeremy calmly answered, "_I'm sorry, but we're currently closed. Please call back in the morning._"

"Jeremy!?" Phil asked surprised, "Wha-what are you doing there? The investigation, the kids, we're being closed down at the end of the week! I moved you to the day shift, why are you working tonight?"

There was a short pause, breathing over the phone becoming louder and sounding as if done through a gas mask. It went away several seconds later.

"_Sorry, Bonnie stopped by,_" Jeremy apologized, "_Anyway, nobody told me. I'll just finish up here and come in tomorrow. Sorry, boss, I'll be there early._"

"No, Jeremy, _go home,_" Phil pleaded, "I'll take over the night shift."

"_Don't bother, I'm already here, I- hang on,_" Jeremy stopped and the amplified breathing came back, lasting for nearly two minutes, "_Chica sure likes to linger. Like I said, I'll finish out my night here, then you can do what you want. See you tomorrow._" A click sounded as Jeremy hung up. Phil sighed, and covered his face with his hands.

**Eight Years Later**

After Jeremy's last night shift, he was arrested almost the instant he set foot into the restaurant. The investigation concluded that he was the most likely suspect, although they found issues with motive. A month later, Jeremy was convicted with six counts of first degree murder and sentenced to life in prison. He fought against it every step of the way, but couldn't procure any evidence proving that he wasn't in the pizzeria during the day nor that he wasn't working there every night. Phil spent another day retching into the trash can.

The restaurant shut down, pulling the half-completed animatronics and their spare parts out of Parts and Service and moving across town for greener pastures. There was a lot to be finalized, and Mr. Fazbach, who had headed the animatronic construction division of Animatronics Limited before being made in charge, wanted as much of the old staff to return as possible. That included Phil and the other day guards.

"Such a shame we can't have Mr. Fitzgerald with us," Fazbach mused sadly, "I still don't believe a word those officers said. He seemed like a good egg to me."

For six years things went great for Phil. But in 1986 things went into a decline. First, Mr. Fazbach died from heart failure, leaving the company without guidance. Then the worst thing possible happened not five months later. A killer, in a yellow Freddy costume, abducted and murdered five children.

Phil learned later that Gerald had nothing to do with it, but still felt like they could connect it back to him. People feared that the serial killer was back, but investigators later found it to be a disturbed employee that liked Gerald's style, and copied his methods. The suit was found to be a shoddy replica and was promptly destroyed and the murderer arrested. The incident brought back to light the odd circumstances of the first deaths.

To help keep suspicion off of him, and to spare anyone else the ordeal, Phil immediately signed on to the night shift once the position was announced, and held it for nearly a year. Then the animatronics broke in on his last night.

This final stress was like a dam bursting, all the fear of getting caught by the law and the animatronics, the guilt at being an accomplice, and the intense hatred of Gerald simply overwhelmed Phil. And he had a heart attack, one so intense that if his shift wasn't nearly over and the manager found him when he did, he very well could have died. The doctors said that it was a medical miracle, and said that Phil was incredibly lucky.

For Phil, it was a sign to stop. There was nothing left for him, not anymore. Gerald had admitted that he never threatened Phil's mother, that he simply knew she would be out of the house and kept Phil from calling in to check. People were still talking about the murders, and the case file had been reopened. Phil needed to hide, and picked the most appropriate location he could think of: the old Freddy Fazbear's.

"And I've been here ever since," Phil finished, still hanging over Mike.

"But, how are you a puppet?" Mike asked, still confused. Phil let out a small laugh.

"Oh, right," he said, "I'm… I'm actually still here. That is exactly what this thing is, a puppet. I've sort of built a home for myself in the basement, and this creepy little thing is how I interact with the others, since they want to get me too. It's kept me sane. Mostly."

Chica screeched a warning and Mike threw on the Freddy head. Toy Chica brushed past her destroyed counterpart, noting her state in surprise.

"What happened to you?" she asked. Chica glared.

"Nothing," she replied harshly, "Get out of here."

"Okay, okay. Sorry," Toy Chica apologized, and walked away. Mike took off the head and Phil turned the puppet back around.

"So Mari-Phil," Mike began.

"Just stick with Marion. It's pretty much me at this point," Marion said, and let Mike continue.

"Alright, _Marion._ Let me get this straight: You've got a robot-proof hideout in the basement," Mike said.

"Yes…"

"With food, water, and a way out," Mike continued.

"What are you-?"

"_And you're making me slug it out all night_!?" Mike asked incredulously.

Marion paused, permanent smile seeming almost mocking.

"Well when you put it like that, I'm a bit of a bastard, aren't I?" Marion asked.

"Kinda," Chica confirmed, before she was suddenly shoved aside by Freddy. "Hey!"

"I'm sorry Chica, but I finally caught our rogue endoskeleton," Freddy apologized, twitching and jerking. Mike rolled himself backwards and grabbed the dented fire extinguisher while Marion turned around.

"Hello Freddy," Marion greeted nervously, "You must know our friend is human, right?"

"Freddy? It's me, Mike," Mike added, readying the extinguisher just in case.

Freddy's expression changed to confusion, and he stared hard at Mike.

"…Michael?" he said finally, with obvious effort, "There… are… so many… errors… Gah!" Freddy lunged at Mike, slamming into the desk and sliding it a few feet. Freddy looked alarmed, staring at his right arm as it seemed to move independently of his will. It reached for Mike, managing to grab onto his shirt before Freddy pulled it back with his left.

It was an odd sight, with Freddy fighting a literal war within himself. The patch fragmented, different parts of the bear's system following it while others responded to Freddy's free will. The twitching and jolts intensified, and Freddy's eyes flickered madly.

"Mike, whack him!" Chica suggested, and Mike looked at the fire extinguisher in his hands. Freddy was dragged forward by his right arm and Mike screamed, swinging the red cylinder and clocking Freddy across the head. The bear froze, head askew. He blinked twice and straightened it, checking himself over and looking back at Mike.

"Wow. That actually worked," Marion observed.

"It appears so," Freddy noted, "I hope that didn't leave a mark."

Suddenly rattling and clanging sounded from the left vent. Each set of eyes in the office looked at it as an animatronic endoskeleton crawled out, and Mike threw on the Freddy mask. It stared out, looking around but not focusing on anybody in the room.

"Please tell me I'm alone," the endoskeleton said darkly. Freddy shook his head.

"I'm afraid not. Who are you?" Freddy asked. The endoskeleton looked in Freddy's general direction.

"I'm Fredbear, but most people called me Goldie before I lost my suit, so you can call me that," Goldie replied, "But I'm sure not 'Eddy' like some people around here insist on callin' me."

"I couldn't call him Goldie because I didn't want the others to ask questions. They don't remember him, but they do remember Gerald, who stole that alias," Marion explained. The endoskeleton imitated a groan of irritation.

"Great…" he muttered, and glanced in Mike's direction, causing the guard to tense up. Goldie didn't react. Mike sighed in relief, and Goldie snapped his head in the guard's direction again.

"That sounded like a guest," Goldie observed, "What brings you here?"

"Uuuh…" Mike began, voice muffled by the mask, "Poor career choice."

Goldie laughed, voice tinny and edged with static.

"You don't need to wear the mask thing. My eyes don't work, so I can't go after you. Marion's explained the whole facial recognition thing to me before, so don't worry about it," Goldie said.

"Not to break up this little moment," Chica said, "But Bonnie and Foxy are still crazy. I'd say just hit them both with that fire extinguisher, but they're both really messed up. We need a plan." Freddy stepped forward.

"Whatever it is that imposter did to us, it's not very stable. Maybe all we need is a trigger, something to make them realize the errors for what they are and delete that program," Freddy suggested. Marion nodded.

"If you guys can get them back, I'll let Mike in the basement, where he'll be safe for the rest of the night. But you need to fix Bonnie and Foxy first," Marion explained, "I'll help where I can."

Mike suddenly snapped his fingers, and began riffling through the desk.

"I know how we can fix Bonnie. Marion, does this place have any crayons?" Mike asked.

The plan was a long shot, and Mike couldn't draw, but he had to appeal to Bonnie. If there would be anything that would trigger her memory, it would be drawings. She always seemed to love them, stemmed from the little drawings visiting children would make in the restaurant. As far as the animatronics were concerned, getting a drawing of your likeness was the highest honor you could get. And Bonnie wanted to honor that.

Now, however, Bonnie would be in no state to draw anything. The spasms had been increasing in frequency and intensity, and her CPU struggled to keep the errors Gerald's program caused from overwhelming her entire system.

The guard scribbled quickly, drawing as best as he could. Freddy stood by in case the plan failed and Bonnie attacked, understanding the grim reality he could very well have to fight her. Eventually, Bonnie wandered her way into the office, where Mike sat shaking without the Freddy mask. The rabbit's lack of face made the normally friendly animatronic incredibly terrifying, with her LED red eyes staring out of the darkness of twisted metal.

"Hey! Why are you out of uniform?" Bonnie asked, advancing on Mike. He held up a piece of paper.

"Bonnie! It's me, it's Mike, remember?" Mike pleaded.

The piece of paper had a lopsided drawing of Bonnie and a stick-figure version of Mike. He had tried to recreate the incident in the store room back when they were trapped in the mall, where he learned Bonnie liked to draw.

Bonnie stared at the picture, head twitching side to side.

"…What?" Bonnie asked, not to anyone in particular, "I… I'm so… Confused… Nothing's making sense…"

"I know, Bon, I know," Mike said gently, and pointed at the picture, "But do you remember? The mall? Hiding with all those boxes and making those signs?"

Bonnie stared hard, eyes flickering and entire body jerking madly. She took a step forward.

"Bonnie?" Mike asked, staring to panic, "Do you remember?"

Slowly, the twitching stopped, and her eyes remained consistently lit (except for her damaged left). She nodded.

"Yes," Bonnie said in relief, and pulled Mike into a hug, "I'm so glad I didn't stuff you!"

"You and I both," Mike said, returning the hug with just as much relief. Freddy walked in, relieved as well.

"Thank goodness, it worked," Freddy said, hugging Bonnie as well, "Now we just need to get Foxy back."

_Where's Mike?_ Foxy wondered to himself as he wandered around, _I haven't seen him all night._

"Wai', yes I have. He be in the office," Foxy countered to himself aloud.

_But that was an endoskeleton, not Mike. Mike's human!_ Foxy's mind argued.

"Aye, tha lad be human…" Foxy agreed with himself, "So does tha' mean tha' was Mike?"

_No, no, that was an endoskeleton,_ Foxy's logic insisted.

"F-Foxy?" a voice asked.

While deep in his internal argument, Foxy had unknowingly wandered into the Security Office. He looked up, staring Mike in the face. His eyes narrowed.

"Now ye shouldn' be ou' of uniform, lad," Foxy scolded, crossing his arms. Mike sighed.

"Foxy, I'm _not_ an endoskeleton. It's me, Mike," Mike said. Foxy cocked his head, then suddenly smiled.

"Ha! I knew I be right. 'M sorry lad, me mind's not sailin' straigh', if ye catch me meanin'," Foxy apologized. Mike leaned back, flabbergasted.

"Wha-, just like that?" Mike asked, "You're… you're sure?" Foxy shrugged.

"Nothin' seemed ta be quite righ', and I could see past yer mask. I jus' had ta figure it ou'," Foxy explained, "If ye didn' flash yer torch at me, I migh' have figured it ou' sooner."

"But you were trying to kill me!" Mike protested. Foxy paused in thought, and shrugged again.

"Alrigh', I give ye tha'. Where be the others? Are they alrigh'?" Foxy asked, voice thick with concern.

"They're fine, just keeping the Toys away," Mike replied, and the sound of wheels on rails sounded, with Marion rolling into the room.

"Foxy! You're okay!" Marion said happily, "You always were my favorite." Foxy cocked his head at the puppet.

"Okay… Bu' I don' know ye," Foxy said. Marion shook his head.

"Yes you do. It's me, Phil, the security supervisor," Marion said, then turned to Mike, "Alright, follow me. You have to move fast if you don't want to get caught. We have more work ahead of us."

_**A/N: Well… -cough-… Hey. So… This took a while to make, and I apologize, but I do have my reasons (a whole list, actually). So…**_

_**I got very, very sick. These past months have been absolute HELL in terms of illness for me. My immune system had damn well better have gotten a boost from fighting these bugs. **_

_**I probably rewrote the entire Phone Guy back story 5 times. I tried different styles, events, even how much Jeremy should be involved. Plus Gerald, the prick. He's hard to write for me, since I basically have to think like a serial killer, in a way. **_

_**Life got super busy, leaving me with no free time to sit down and work things out. The busy period is done, so hopefully I can get back to it. **_

_**So yeah, there ya go. Sorry for the long wait. We're nearing the end of this one, and then we can move on to Night Seven, which I am SUPER excited for. **_

_**Have a good one!**_

_**-DeltaV "After nine years in development, hopefully this was worth the wait." **_


	10. Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine: Finally Justice

Gerald frowned underneath Goldie's costume. He hadn't seen his reprogrammed animatronics in a while, and hadn't heard the night guard scream for even longer. The resident robots also seemed to be sensing that something was wrong, walking around with confused and concerned looks on their faces. But Gerald didn't care nearly enough about them to inquire what was wrong. That was more of a Phil thing.

Suddenly, he heard rapid footsteps tear past the door, and peeking out Gerald saw the night guard sprinting as fast as he could, the animatronics he reprogrammed right on his tail. He chuckled.

_Well, that little problem seems to be taken care of,_ he thought, _One less witness to worry about._

Clanking sounded from the vent, and the real Goldie returned.

"Well, that guy's out of luck," he said, feeling his way back into the room.

"Seems that way," Gerald replied, brushing nonexistent dust off of his suit. Goldie frowned, hearing the suit fabric come together.

"You're still wearing my suit, aren't you?" Goldie asked in an accusatory tone.

"Correct," Gerald confirmed, "You're not using it."

"Well now I don't want to," Goldie immediately fired back, "After you stink it up with your human smell."

Gerald scoffed.

"Please, you can't smell," Gerald countered.

"And I can't see either, so I'll add it to the list," Goldie replied, and crawled back up onto the table he laid on, "So. What'll you do now?" Gerald paused to think about the question.

"Probably remind Marion that helping people I want dead isn't part of the deal," Gerald said darkly, grabbing a metal bar and his cattle prod.

"Harsh," Goldie said flatly, and before setting himself into standby added, "Wake me up if you lose."

Gerald chuckled to himself and put the head of his suit on, before stepping out into the restaurant. Might as well watch the guard's last moments, it could prove entertaining.

* * *

Mike ran to the door that Marion led him to, still carrying the fire extinguisher, while Freddy and the others provided cover from the Toys. The guard pounded on the door. Several seconds later the door flew open and a hand pulled him inside, shutting it behind him.

"Hey!" Chica protested, pounding on the door, "What about us?"

"Sorry, no room," Marion explained. Chica growled in frustration but didn't protest further. Freddy had remained silent after coming back, and something about the air around him seemed to suggest a coming storm. Foxy noticed.

"Ye alrigh', mate?" Foxy asked the bear. Freddy turned and nodded.

"Fine," he answered gruffly, then turning to the direction of Parts and Service, "Just… fine…"

* * *

Mike had been grabbed and pulled down a small flight of stairs. He was met with a man, Phil, who was probably in his late 40s, and dressed in a security guard outfit much like Mike's, but of an older design. His blonde hair was cut to a clean, short length, but clearly looked like he had done it himself, and a goatee that ringed around his mouth. Phil had a wiry frame, a little bit skinny due to having to survive on whatever Gerald decided he needed, and his eyes seemed to have lost the fire in them. Phil gave him a sad smile.

"I, uh, kind of wish we, um, met under better circumstances," he said, putting his hands in his pockets. Mike nodded in agreement.

"Yeah. So… what do we do now?" Mike asked.

"Now? Now, um, you wait here until six when the Toys go to charge, uh, then you and the others go back to the, uh, other restaurant," Phil said, and walked over to a desk sitting on the corner of the room.

On it sat a large monitor, a microphone, a speaker, and a series of control sticks. The control center for the puppet. Mike followed Phil as he sat down in a chair, staring at the screen, which showed Freddy and the others as they looked about the room outside the door to the basement.

"So that's how you control Marion, huh?" Mike asked, leaning on the back of the chair.

"Yeah. Microphone for the, uh, voice, screen for the, er, eyes, simple stuff," Phil explained, then pressed a button on the microphone.

"Mike's all set down here. Now we just need to wait it out," Phil said, the statement having a slight echo as it played out of Marion.

"What about that imposter? We can't let him get away!" Chica protested. Foxy nodded.

"Aye, tha scallywag needs ta' be keelhauled!" Foxy agreed. Phil sighed to himself and made Marion shake his head.

"He's, gotten away with it for years, just… let it be," Phil said, "Just leave and let things go back to normal."

"_Normal?_ You look at me and tell me I'm normal," Chica prodded, swinging the long wires hanging from her arms dramatically, "Or look at Bonnie. Can she go back to normal?"

"Don't bring me into this, Chica," Bonnie said, "We can just get Nathan's help. Can't we just go home?" Chica immediately rounded onto Bonnie.

"You don't want that guy to pay for what he's done?" Chica asked, "For what he did to _us_?"

"I just don't want anyone else to get hurt, or to be reprogrammed again," Bonnie explained, "I want that imposter to get in trouble as much as you do, but I want to go home and get fixed more."

"Thar mus' be somethin' we can do," Foxy said, pacing back and forth before looking at Freddy, "Wha' abou' ye, mate? Wha' say ye?"

Freddy looked up, frowning as he tried to think of a plan. He suddenly turned to Marion.

"Do you have a telephone?" Freddy asked. In the basement, Phil grinned, making Marion slowly nod.

"Freddy, you're talking to 'Phone Guy'," he said, and made Marion start leading the way.

* * *

Marion led Freddy into the Security Office, pointing with a cloth-like arm at the telephone sitting on the desk.

"That phone still works, since the company wanted a connected system in case something went wrong, sort of like a long-distance radio, you didn't need to dial a number. That's partly how I recorded messages back in the day," he said, "I would just use a different phone in the building. They were all taken out though, except for this one since the phone company wanted it there."

"Thank you," Freddy said, and turned to Foxy, "I need your hook to help dial."

"Sure, mate," Foxy agreed, stepping forward, "Wha'ever ye need."

"You remember Officer Reuben, correct?" Freddy asked. Foxy grinned and nodded, moving the point of his hook to dial.

* * *

Virginia Thomas, nicknamed "Ginny", hated her job with a burning passion. She had the _fortunate_ position of working the night shift for police dispatch. Night time was when the freaks and weirdos called 911 for whatever bizarre reason, and she had to deal with it. The most recent incident was the whole debacle at Freddy's, and the officers that responded had refused to talk about it, while Dr. Terrace had convinced both herself and the rest of the station that perhaps they had all been working too hard.

Ginny still wanted to know, however, but put it in the back of her mind as the phone predictably rang. Someone usually called at least four times during each block of her shift.

"911 what's your emergency," Ginny said for the thousandth time.

"_I need to speak to Officer Reuben, it's urgent_," the voice on the other end said. It was tinny, hard to make out, and disturbingly familiar.

"Sir, you can't use 911 for personal matters," Ginny explained in an exasperated voice, shoving off the déjà vu.

"_Arr, wha' can we use this fer?_" a faint, heavily accented voice asked.

"_Foxy, hush,_" the main voice scolded, "_I don't know of any other way to reach him, but we need his help._"

"Alright, who is this?" Ginny asked.

"_Freddy Fazbear, miss,_" the voice replied with no hesitation, "_Officer Reuben should remember us, as should an Officers Wilkes and… Galloway?_"

Ginny paused. Reuben, Wilkes, and Galloway were the ones involved in the Freddy's debacle. Was this one of the… things? He certainly didn't seem like the monsters Wilkes swore up and down they were when he was found knocked out outside the Central Mall.

"Putting you through now," Ginny said.

"_Thank you,_" Freddy replied, and the call was forwarded to Reuben's station.

* * *

Reuben's police issued cell phone rang as he sat in his patrol car, sitting on the side of the road looking for anything suspicious. He answered.

"Reuben," he said, shifting in his seat.

"_Reub? It's Polk… You're, you're gonna want to take this call,_" Sergeant Polk said, and a click sounded as lines were transferred.

"Hello? This is Officer Reuben," Reuben greeted the caller, "What do you want?"

"_Officer? I'm not sure you remember me, but this is Freddy Fazbear,_" a tinny, distorted voice said. Reuben stiffened, before his stubble-lined jaw fell into a scowl.

"Har-dee-freakin'-har, asshole. Look, I told everyone I wasn't sure what I saw that night, so knock it off," Reuben replied angrily.

"_Sir, please, I promise this is not a joke. Listen, we're all here,_" Freddy said.

"_Ahoy ye lubber,_" a new voice said.

"_Hello again, Officer,_" said yet another, this one feminine, "_Are you in Downtown?_"

"_Hey,_" another feminine voice said simply.

Reuben stared out of his windshield blankly, recognizing the voices.

"All right, that's pretty damn good, I'll give you that," he said, voice wavering slightly.

"_Jeez, why are you cops so hard to convince?_" the second feminine voice said in a manner that sounded incredibly similar to the yellow duck thing he had picked up.

"Because cops are screwed with all the time!" Reuben replied harshly, and hung up, shoving the phone back into its pouch on his belt roughly.

_I'm never going to put that night past me,_ he thought glumly, but a part of him felt differently. He pulled the phone out again, going to the "Recent Calls" section and seeing the number that had called him. He wrote it down and dialed the station.

"Reuben, badge twelve-forty-seven, can you run a trace for the following number?" he asked.

* * *

"He hung up. Great," Chica said. Marion hung over her shoulder, having heard all that had occurred.

"How do you know a police officer?" he asked.

"It's kind of a long story," Bonnie replied, a spark arcing from her destroyed bottom jaw. Freddy imitated a sigh.

"That was my only plan, hoping that we could get Gerald arrested," Freddy said.

"There would certainly be enough evidence, and I'd be willing to confess," Marion said.

In the basement, Mike looked at Phil.

"Really? But, you're an accomplice, you could go to jail too!" Mike pointed out, "I mean, yeah, you're not a bad guy, but still. It was _murder_." Phil looked at him.

"It, um, isn't going to be an issue," Phil replied, "It would, uh, be a release, actually, for the truth to come out. They already let Jeremy go years ago, after the reopened the case."

Mike nodded, and began looking around the room. Something… wasn't quite right. The basement was as clean as could be reasonably done, but there were a few questions that were raised. Phil had said Gerald brought him supplies, and if he was here, where were they? There wasn't a separate storage section, and no sign of a source of food or water.

Then, another disgusting thought: no waste facilities. If Phil had been living here for years, where did all his trash and body waste go? The man didn't even smell, how did he take a shower?

"Phil, do you leave here at all?" Mike asked. Phil shook his head, still watching Marion's screen.

"No, no, I, uh, haven't left in quite a while," he said in a finite tone indicating he didn't want the matter to be discussed further.

"So how do you… you know?" Mike asked.

"How do I what?" Phil asked, confused.

"Uh, actually never mind, I'm not sure I'd like the answer," Mike hastily replied. Phil shrugged.

"Alright, suit yourself," he said, and continued to watch Marion's screen.

On the screen, Marion shifted through the halls, running along his track as Phil guided it. He passed by a concerned Mangle and BB.

"_Byzrrt?_" Mangle asked. Phil keyed the microphone.

"What was that BB?" he asked.

"She asking if you're okay," BB said, "Now that she mentions it, you've been acting weird lately. And who's the yellow guy?"

Phil lowered Marion down to BB's level.

"Listen to me BB, do _not_ go near him. He's a bad man, okay?" BB's eyes widened and his usual smile dropped in surprise.

"Ok," he said simply, "Mangle? Can we go somewhere else?"

"_Zzyrrt,_" Mangle said, nodding, and reaching her still suited hand down to drag BB to the Security Office. Phil turned to Mike.

"Mangle's pretty, uh, motherly to BB. Kind of part of her programming, although, um, apparently human kids scare her since they, uh, tore her apart basically every day," Phil explained.

"That's… nice…" Mike said, not entirely sure what prompted an explanation, "What time is it?" Phil checked his watch.

"About 4:30. Only an hour and a half left," Phil replied.

A sudden banging sounded on the basement door.

"Phil? We need to have a little _chat_," Gerald's voice said through the metal.

* * *

_I knew it, I fucking knew it,_ Officer Reuben thought to himself. The call had come from the abandoned Freddy Fazbear's, where a group of kids were murdered, much like in the location that was still open. That knowledge broke both good and bad news.

The good news: the call was legitimate. The bad news: the call was legitimate. Reuben sighed and scratched at the stubble on his right cheek, fingernails making a _scritch scritch_ as it passed over it. He really didn't want to pay another visit to where those… _things_ were, and certainly didn't want to see them again. But another part of him, the part that made him become a police officer, felt the need to help them. It was obvious that they were in a hell of a jam if they called for a cop specifically. His nails kept moving over the same patch of stubble, the skin quickly growing red and raw as Reuben weighed the decision more and more.

_Screw it, to protect and serve, damn it,_ Reuben thought, and picked up his police phone, dialing the station. After one ring the receptionist picked up.

"Reuben, badge twelve forty-seven," Reuben introduced himself.

"_How can I help you, Officer Reuben?_" the receptionist, Kelly, asked.

Reuben shifted in the seat of his patrol car.

"Connect me to Galloway, please, I need his help," Reuben replied. Kelly faltered.

"_Why didn't you just radio for assistance?_" she asked.

"This is relating to… that night, and I'd like to keep it under the radar," Reuben answered with a clipped tone.

"_I understand, putting you through now,_" Kelly replied, and the phone began ringing. After several rings, Galloway answered.

"_This is Galloway,_" he said.

"Gall, it's Reuben," Reuben said, "I need your help."

"_Of course. What's up?_" Galloway asked.

"Remember those freaks?" Reuben asked.

Galloway's sigh could be heard through the call.

"_How could I not? I still get nightmares. I'm still not entirely convinced that was real,_" Galloway replied, before suddenly becoming scared, "_Please tell me you haven't arrested them again._"

"Not… exactly," Reuben began, "They actually called me. They need my help."

A pause settled onto the conversation.

"_Nuh-uh, Reub, no way,_" Galloway said, fully understanding the reason for the call, "_I am not going anywhere near those things ever again._"

"I think…" Reuben sighed, and spoke quieter into the phone as if to not be heard, "I think it's serious. Why would they call us after we arrested them and chased them?"

"_I don't want to find out!_" Galloway argued, "_They attacked us, remember? Those things are monsters!_"

"Now you're starting to sound like Wilkes."

"_Wilkes might have been right all along. I didn't join the force for adventure like you did, Reub, I can't handle this stuff,_" Galloway pleaded, "_I've never embraced traffic duty more readily. I still see those eyes in the shadows._"

Reuben groaned, smacking his head against the headrest of his seat.

"Tom, listen to me," Reuben said, addressing the officer by his first name, "I'm going to help them, and if it's anything like the last time, I need all the help I can get. I'm asking you as a friend and an officer."

A long pause grew after Reuben's statement. Galloway sighed once more.

"_Alright, alright. Send me the address,_" Galloway finally agreed.

* * *

"Come now, Phil, don't be a child!" Gerald called, pounding once more on the door, "You know I hate the silent treatment."

Behind the man currently dressed in Goldie's suit, Chica and Foxy looked on, glaring.

"Bilge suckin' mongrel," Foxy growled, "Why can' we jus' keelhaul 'im now?" Chica growled as well.

"Because Freddy wants us to wait for Officer Reuben," she explained, "He wants to get away from that whole mess with the magazine. I guess I kinda agree, it _is_ wrong." Foxy shook his head.

"Bu' Mike 'n tha' Phil lad be in trouble," Foxy pointed out, trying to protect his crew, "An' we don' even know if he be comin'".

"That door'll keep him out, now shut up and keep watch," Chica said.

Gerald banged on the door several more times, then turned around, noticing Foxy and Chica. He pointed to Foxy.

"You," he said, "Come over here."

Foxy didn't move, glaring daggers (or rather, cutlasses) at the costumed man. Behind the mask, Gerald frowned.

"Looks like someone isn't listening to the program," lifting up the cattle prod, "I suppose we'll have to update it."

Gerald thumbed the power switch on the prod's base, the tip arcing with hundreds of volts of raw electricity. A series of deep clicks sounded from the end at a machine gun pace, and Foxy stared at the tip of it wide-eyed. Gerald swung it around casually, turning off the current, and Foxy followed its path warily.

"I've heard about your past exploits, you know," Gerald said, "Especially the Bite, and that lovely article in the magazine. It seems you've both been even worse than me. I'm actually a little jealous."

Another swish with the cattle prod, and Gerald took a few steps towards Foxy.

"I think over the years _your_ body count has surpassed mine," he told the fox, "Admit it, it just feels _good_ doesn't it? To just… stop a problem."

"Hey, back off creep!" Chica warned.

"Oh like you're much better?" Gerald countered, "You're no less guilty, even if you didn't bite that poor man. How many security guards have you stuffed?"

Chica didn't reply, glaring as well. Behind the mask Gerald smirked.

"That's what I thought. Don't try to take the moral high ground here, we're all killers," Gerald said, and resumed pounding on the door, pausing after several strikes. "I suppose that means your little night guard friend is still alive. Oh well, I'm sure the Toys will be happy to solve that dilemma."

Foxy growled and began advancing towards Gerald, only to be blocked by Chica.

"Cool it," Chica said, "Mike'll be fine, he's bluffing. Just follow Freddy's plan. The less we do, the better."

* * *

_Why won't the others do something?_ Mike wondered as he paced in Phil's basement hideout. The older guard watched him, drumming his fingers on his desk awkwardly.

"So, uh…" he began, "How long have you been working for Freddy's?" Mike looked up, then kept walking.

"About a month," he replied.

"Ah," Phil said, "And you, uh, managed to solve the, um, suit stuffing problem?"

"…Yeah, I guess you could say that."

Phil leaned back in the chair.

"Well, at any rate, it's good to see them sort of back to normal," he said, "Well, there are _some_ discrepancies, but it's been a long time."

The pounding sounded once again on the metal door.

"Phil? I know you've got that guard in there," Gerald called through the barrier, "We had a deal, Phil! No witnesses, _ever_!" Mike looked nervously at the door. Phil noticed.

"Don't mind him," he said, "He's, er, got separation issues. That door'll keep him out, I'm sure."

* * *

_I'm not getting through that door, and those robots are staring holes in the back of my head,_ Gerald thought, and suddenly thought of an idea. But for it to work, he'd need one of the Toys, one that would be so naïve it would do whatever it asked if it thought it was helping. A smile spread across his lips, hidden behind Goldie's visage.

"Bonnie? Bonnie, buddy, where are you?" Gerald called out, walking away from the basement door. He continued to look for the blue rabbit in the same manner until he finally found him in the Kitchen, wandering around and carrying his guitar. A large grin came over Toy Bonnie's face when Gerald walked in.

"Hi Goldie!" he greeted, "What's up? I haven't seen you in _forever!_" Gerald nodded, waving his hand dismissively.

"Yes, yes, right," he said, "Listen, we have a problem." Toy Bonnie's eyes widened.

"Problem?" the rabbit asked, incredibly concerned, "What kind of problem?" Gerald smiled behind the Goldie mask, then filled his own voice with as much alarm as he could.

"A kid's stuck in the basement!" Gerald lied, "Follow me, quick!" He dashed as fast as the suit would allow back into the Dining Area, heading for the basement access near Parts &amp; Service. A few short seconds later and he could hear Toy Bonnie's heavy footfalls following.

"The _basement?_" Toy Bonnie asked, "But Marion said that nobody is supposed to go in the basement!"

"That's why I need your help!" Gerald yelled over his shoulder, panting with the effort of running in the bulky suit.

The two reached the basement door. Foxy and Chica had gone to the Security Office to see if they still had to hurry up and wait, so they were alone. Gerald rested his hands on his knees, gasping for breath. Toy Bonnie stared at the door, confused.

"The door… is stuck…" Gerald explained between breaths, "I can't… open it… can you try?"

Toy Bonnie nodded and leaned his guitar against the wall near the door, and grasped the doorknob. He turned it, and pulled and pushed the door roughly, slamming it around in its frame.

"Boy, it's really stuck!" he observed, jiggling the doorknob, "I don't think I can open it without breaking it."

"Break it!" Gerald ordered, "That kid's stuck in there, we can fix it afterwards!"Bonnie looked at the door, concerned.

"I don't know, I don't really like to break things," Toy Bonnie explained, "I got in trouble when I-,"

"God _damn _it Bonnie!" Gerald roared, exasperated, "Do you want that kid to get hurt? _Break down that door!_"

Toy Bonnie jolted in surprise at the outburst and threw himself against the door as hard as he could, denting the metal surface and warping the lock, but it still held. Toy Bonnie shook himself, static having filled his vision from the force of the impact, leaving him dazed.

"_Again!_" Gerald ordered, hysterical. Toy Bonnie jumped again and slammed into the door a second time. Metal screeched as it scraped against other metal, and the lock gave way, the door swinging open.

Toy Bonnie's momentum carried him forward, and he fell down the staircase with a cacophony of crashes and bangs, landing on his back and unable to get up by himself. Gerald followed the rabbit, stepping over him to greet Phil and Mike.

"Darn it!" Toy Bonnie cursed, struggling to right himself, "Can I have a little help? Please?"

"Quiet," Gerald hushed, giving the robot a kick. Toy Bonnie stopped his flailing. Gerald looked up at Phil and Mike, staring through the eye slots in Goldie's head.

"We need to talk," he said, holding up his cattle prod. Mike instinctively grabbed the dented fire extinguisher, hefting it into a ready postition. Gerald's unseen face twisted into an angry frown.

"I was hoping for an adult conversation," Gerald said, and activated the prod.

* * *

Mangle heard the distant crash of Toy Bonnie's descent down the basement stairs.

"_Tyyzrrt?_" she asked herself, and crawled off to investigate.

She had returned to Kid's Cove, collapsing into a heap in her corner, having nothing to do. Freddy, Bonnie, Chica, and Foxy were gathered in the Security Office, discussing some sort of plan, while BB entertained himself in the Game Area making balloons for everyone. Toy Freddy and Toy Chica, having been told by Marion to not interfere with anything the newer robots were doing, were on the Show Stage, trying to stay out of the way. And if Mangle's memory was correct, Toy Bonnie had gone into the Kitchen, presumably to stay out of the way as well.

Mangle's journey took her past the entrance, where she was distracted by headlights sweeping across as two black and white cars pulled into the lot, parking next to a large truck. She crawled closer to the window, peering out curiously.

Two men in dark blue uniforms with badges on their chests got out of their respective vehicles, pulling flashlights off of their belts and aiming them at the entrance. The criminal database recognized the two men as police officers, and this new development made Mangle wonder why they were here.

The taller of the two officers walked towards the entrance, noticing the window Toy Bonnie had cracked trying to get at the predator from the other night. He pushed and pulled at the door, rattling it against its lock, and then turned to his companion.

"Locked," he said, "You think our skeleton keys will work?"

The other man shrugged. "I guess. Here," he said, and handed a small object to the other.

The first officer stuck it into the door, fiddling it around before twisting it. A click sounded from the door, and Mangle scrabbled away as it swung open. The two men stepped inside, shining their lights throughout the space.

"Of course it's dark," the first officer said bitterly.

"What do you expect, Reub? This place hasn't been open for years," the second replied.

The wariness and caution the officers showed made Mangle nervous. What were they afraid of? Was it something scary? _Was it after the others too_? She pulled herself closer to the ceiling, single eye darting about, looking for whatever it was the policeman were looking for. Suddenly a flashlight beam shone into her face, and she screeched in surprise.

"_Zzzyt!_" she exclaimed, and lost her grip, falling to the floor.

"Aaah!" the second officer screamed, keeping his flashlight aimed at Mangle, "What the hell is that?"

"It looks like a robot!" the other officer explained, keeping his light trained on the fox as well.

Mangle, meanwhile, searched around quickly for what spooked the officers, and upon finding nothing realized it was herself. Mentally sighing in relief, she crawled slowly towards the two men.

"_Tyzzrrt byzzrk yrxx,_" she said. _Don't be scared!_

The officers stared, and the lead one drew his gun.

"Get back! What'd you do with the others?" he demanded. Mangle froze, tilting her head to the side.

"_XXyrt?_" she asked. _What?_ "_They'rezzzxxyert_" _They're this way._ Mangle gestured for them to follow, climbing up back onto the ceiling and heading towards the Security Office. After a few moments, she looked back and saw that the two hadn't moved. She made a "follow me" gesture once more.

"I think it wants us to follow it," the second officer said. Mangle nodded.

"Looks like you're right. Stay alert," the first officer replied, then turned to Mangle, "Lead the way."

Mangle nodded once more and traveled towards the office, the policemen following cautiously behind.

* * *

Rebuen followed the… fox, robot, _thing_ as it crawled across the ceiling like something out of a horror movie. Every so often it would look behind itself, looking to make sure they were following with a single glowing eye. It was quite unnerving.

The journey continued down a long hallway, which was partially lit, leading towards a smallish room where four very recognizable figures could be seen. The yellow chicken, purple bunny, and red fox had been reduced to an astounding degree of disrepair, the rabbit missing a face and the chicken missing its arms. Both Reuben and Galloway stopped, the abomination on the ceiling spouting something in its staticy gibberish. The bear looked up, and almost seemed to sigh with relief, and smiled warmly.

"Officer Reuben!" he greeted, "Thank goodness!"

The bear began walking towards Reuben, but he held up a hand, keeping the other on his gun.

"Hang on right there," he said, "What's going on here, huh? Why'd you call me in particular?"

"You were the only one that'd believe us," the bear, Freddy, explained, "We need your help catching a serial killer."

Galloway gasped.

"A _what?_" he asked. At this point the red fox spoke up.

"Tha rotten, no-good, bilge suckin' mongrel that… that…" the fox couldn't complete the sentence. The yellow chicken stepped in.

"Basically what happened at our restaurant, but here first. With those kids," she explained glumly.

"Righ'," the fox agreed.

"Oh my God… The Kid Killer," Galloway said, "But I thought he got caught!" Freddy shook his head.

"No. He's been hiding out here ever since. We need you to catch him," Freddy explained. Reuben shook himself out of his shock.

"Alright, but I want answers after this, got it?" he demanded, then drew his gun, "Where is this guy?" Galloway spoke up.

"Wait a second, we don't have a warrant, we don't have any evidence, and we're getting this from… those things!" he protested, "The same things that broke out of police custody and assaulted us, and you just want to trust them?"

"We're animatronics, not 'things'," Freddy said, "And we have a friend that said he wanted to… oh what word did he use… 'testify'? Does that help? We'd do this ourselves, but we've had… problems with violence in the past, and we're trying to stay away from it."

"And you chose having a _serial killer_ on the loose to do that?" Galloway asked incredulously, "Reub, do you believe _any _of this?"

"Quite a bit, actually," Reuben said, "And that's good enough for me. Let's go, Gall."

"Bu-but, Reub, I-,"

"Time to be a cop, Gall. We're bringing this monster down."

"But you haven't even _seen_ the guy!" Galloway exclaimed.

"Galloway, shut the hell up," Reuben replied, "Why would these guys lie? Now which way did he go?"

The sound of Mike shouting sounded throughout the halls.

"Mike!" Bonnie, Foxy, and Chica exclaimed at the same time. Reuben sprinted out of the office.

"This way!" he said, "Come on!"

* * *

Mike fell to the floor, dodging a jab made by Gerald with the cattle prod. He grabbed the fire extinguisher from where it had slipped out of his hands and pulled the pin, charging the propellant, and depressed the trigger. As it was an older model extinguisher, freezing carbon dioxide erupted from the nozzle, enveloping Gerald.

Gerald threw his arms up in front of him to stave off the cold, and Mike used the distraction to charge forward, swinging the extinguisher to strike the killer across the head. Goldie's suit's head swiveled 90 degrees, taking the brunt of the impact and leaving Gerald momentarily stunned. He reached up and turned it back into place.

"You little nuisance!" Gerald shouted. Behind him, Toy Bonnie struggled to right himself, but stayed quiet after being hushed by Gerald.

Phil had backed away, watching the fight sadly. Mike looked at him.

"Are you gonna help?" he asked.

"Don't you dare, Phil," Gerald threatened, pointing the prod, "You know what I can do." He charged at Mike again, who was able to avoid the attack and knock Gerald to the floor due to the bulky suit. He was back up in an instant, and dashed at the night guard again. Mike swung with the extinguisher again, having it glance off of Gerald's shoulder and be knocked from his hands.

"I need help!" Mike shouted, as loud as possible.

"Nobody's coming, Mike!" Gerald said, "It's just you, me, and a bunch of robots that want to kill you." He lunged at Mike with the prod again, the guard narrowly avoiding the sparking end with a shout. In desperation, Mike tackled Gerald to the floor, wrestling over the prod. The suit the killer wore was heavy, and by throwing its weight around Gerald managed to overpower Mike, ending up on top of him.

"Get off me!" Mike screamed, planting a hard kick under Gerald and throwing him off. They both quickly got to their feet, Mike having his hands raised in front of him. Slowly, they clenched into fists, and the guard assumed a sort of fighting stance.

"Alright then," Gerald said, "I hope you're not expecting me to join you in a fistfight."

"Kinda hoping…" Mike admitted, but kept his guard up.

"Hopes were ignored," Gerald replied, and again the end of the cattle prod glowed with electricity.

Suddenly, Phil let out a savage yell and charged Gerald, jumping onto him and dragging him to the floor, pinning the arm holding the prod down. Gerald caught him with a punch across the face, and Phil landed on top of the prod. Gerald activated, and Phil screamed as he was electrocuted, passing out from the pain.

Gerald yanked his arm out from under Phil's limp body and rose to his feet.

"Traitor," he spat, and kicked him, before turning to Mike, who let out an audible gulp, "Now then…"

"Freeze, hands up, _now!_" a voice screamed from the steps. Two police officers stormed down the stairs, leaping over the still struggling Toy Bonnie, guns trained on Gerald and Mike. Mike immediately thrust his hands skyward, while Gerald didn't move. The taller officer, seemingly in charge, aimed at the suited man.

"Drop you weapon!" he ordered, "Now!" Gerald tossed the cattle prod to the side. "Hands on your head! _Spread your shit!_" Gerald complied, and the officer quickly stepped behind him and handcuffed him. The other officer did the same with Mike.

"There better be a person under here," the first officer growled, and yanked off Gerald's mask.

"Oh thank god," the other officer said upon seeing Gerald's completely human face.

Freddy walked down the steps afterward.

"Michael! Thank goodness!" he said, hugging the guard, "We thought he got you!"

Mike nodded, looking at the two police officers as his own handcuffs were unlocked.

"Who are you guys?" he asked. The officer that had restrained him stuck his hand out.

"Officer Galloway," he said, as Mike grabbed the offered hand to shake, "This is the weirdest thing I have ever done."

"Reuben," the other officer greeted, checking Gerald in the head when he started struggling, "Knock of your shit!" he ordered, and forced him to his knees. He then calmly looked back at Mike.

"Gonna go out on a limb and say it's this creepy bastard," Reuben said, "These guys called me. Last time I arrested them, thought they were gonna kill me. Glad that changed."

"Yes, well… If it helps we didn't want to hurt anyone then either," Freddy said awkwardly. Clanking steps signaled Foxy arriving onto the scene, staring confused at Toy Bonnie as he continued to rock back and forth on the ground. He raised his eye patch.

"Wha's wit' ye, mate?" Foxy asked, before looking back, "Mike, lad, yer okay! Bonnie an' Chica be keepin' tha others from seein' ye. I see ye got tha' bilge rat." Reuben nodded.

"Yeah," Reuben replied, glaring at Gerald. Phil groaned from his spot on the floor. Galloway ran over, followed by Mike.

"Whoa, you okay buddy?" Galloway asked, "What happened? Who's this?"

"Phil," Mike explained, "He was Gerald's accomplice, and he'll testify. Got zapped by this guy's cattle prod."

"We had an agreement, Phil!" Gerald yelled

"Oh, that reminds me," Reuben said, and turned Gerald to face him, "You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be held against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney, if you cannot afford an attorney one will be provided for you. Do you understand these rights as I have read them to you? _Dirt bag_?"

"Yes," Gerald spat, voice full of venom.

"Good, come with me," Reuben ordered, and dragged Gerald towards the stairs. Toy Bonnie had moved out of the way, but caught a glimpse of Gerald's face, eyes turning black.

"Hey! Get away from the children!" he ordered, struggling to reach and grab him. Reuben backed him away carefully.

"What's with him?" he asked, hand going down for his gun.

"They have some sort of anti-predator thing. Makes them psycho," Mike explained, and grabbed Goldie's suit head, "Put this on him." Reuben shoved it onto Gerald with little fanfare, and Toy Bonnie's eyes returned to normal.

"Oh, hello officer!" he greeted cheerfully, "Is everything okay?"

"Uh, yes," Reuben replied, and pushed Gerald forward, "Move it."

The two of them ascended the steps, Galloway following close behind, edging past Chica and Bonnie, who were talking to Mangle and Toy Freddy, who wanted to know what was going on. Mike could hear Gerald suddenly start shouting.

"I'm not done, you hear me!?" he threatened, "You'll pay for this Phil! And you too Mike!"

"Shut the fuck up!" Reuben roared, "Don't be so cliché."

* * *

Galloway snickered at Reuben's remark as they moved quickly through the darkened restaurant.

"You might have gotten away for it if it weren't for those meddling kids," he said. Gerald huffed. The sound of squeaking wheels suddenly sounded, and Marion rolled in front of them.

"Well, well, well," he said, staring at the group with a frozen grin, "I applaud you officers. This monster needs to go away for a long, _long_ time."

"Uh… yeah…" Reuben said, "Thanks… whatever you are…"

"This place just gets weirder," Galloway muttered. Marion nodded.

"Quite," he agreed, and lowered himself to hang directly in front of Gerald, staring through the eye holes of Goldie's head, "Farewell, Gerald," and turned to the officers, "Phil will give you anything you need. He's a good man, and was forced into an unpleasant situation. That was the hardest part, watching, as he always was my favorite controller. Good day."

Without anything more, the puppet wheeled himself away towards the Prize Corner, leaving Reuben and Galloway staring after him.

"We never speak of this night, agreed?" Reuben asked.

"Oh yeah. I'd hate for Dr. Terrace to profile us. Again," Galloway agreed, and the officers dragged Gerald outside, with the sun just starting to peek over the horizon.

* * *

"Well, this night sucked," Chica said dryly. She and the others were holed up in Phil's basement, waiting until six. Toy Freddy stuck his head through the open door, not seeing Mike or Phil.

"Are you all still doing okay?" he asked, "Scary stuff when we get a predator."

"We're fine," Freddy replied, "How's Toy Bonnie? He fell pretty hard."

"A few dents and scratches, but he says he's fine. And that he's sorry for being so clumsy," Toy Freddy said, "Well, if you or your friends need anything, give a shout."

"Will do," Freddy replied, and Toy Freddy walked away.

An hour later, the clock turned six, albeit without a chime, and Chica watched the animatronics return to their dormant places and power off automatically.

"We're clear. Let's get my arms and stuff," she said, "And Bonnie's face."

"Right," Mike said, and walked into Parts &amp; Service. Bits of metal, Chica's arms, and the face assembly of Bonnie's suit were found on the floor. The activity caught the attention of Goldie, who lay on a maintenance cart.

"Oh, hello," he greeted in a flat voice, "Did that creep Gerald get taken care of?"

"Yeah, he was arrested," Chica explained, watching Mike and Phil gather every piece they could find.

"Fantastic," Goldie replied, "Never liked that guy." Mike picked up one last screw and dropped it into a bucket he had found.

"I think that's it," Mike said, "Let's get out of here." Phil stopped him.

"What about them?" he asked, pointing to Goldie, "I can't just leave them here."

"Well, we can't take them with us!" Mike said, "The face thing, they're dangerous. We'll figure something out, but I need to take my guys home."

"Alright," Phil said, "Okay."

Mike led the group out and opened the cargo door of the delivery truck, and the animatronics climbed in, Chica needing help due to not having arms to aid her. Mike and Phil climbed into the cab, and Mike sighed, rubbing his face.

"Glad that's over. Good thing therapists are expensive, or I might go crazy," he said, and started the engine, "Arianna's going to kick my ass."

"Oh," Phil said, staring out the windshield, "Drop me off at the police station. I have things to get off my chest."

* * *

The reaction back at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza was predictable, and Mike braced himself once the animatronics walked inside.

"_SCHMIDT!_" Arianna roared, storming outside to meet the guard, a phone in her hand. She shoved it into Mike's hands.

"You. Nathan. Call. _Now,_" she ordered, before running back inside to tend to the robots, "What in the holiest of fucks happened to you guys!?"

"It's not Mike's fault!" Mike could hear Bonnie say, before the doors closed. Mike dialed Nathan's number. It rang several times.

"Nathan Grimes, mechanic for hire," Nathan answered tiredly.

"Hey, it's Mike," Mike said into the phone.

"Oh, hey Mike. What's up?"

"Well…"

"Oh no," Nathan said, "Nothing good ever follows a 'well'."

* * *

Nathan's pickup screeched to a halt, the mechanic already out of the driver's seat before it stopped moving, toolbox in hand. Mike met him at the entrance, looking at his watch.

"Wow, ten minutes, and you were in downtown," Mike remarked.

"Ran an old lady off the road too, now shut up and tell me what happened _exactly_," Nathan demanded.

"Well…"

"_God damn it_," Nathan said, and slammed the doors open, walking out into the Dining Area. His toolbox clattered to the ground as he stared at the state of his friends. He immediately rounded on Mike, pushing the guard against the wall.

"What did you do to them?" he asked, eyes livid.

"Shit!" Mike exclaimed, startled, "It wasn't me! Why do you all think it was me?"

Arianna came to his rescue.

"Lay off, Grimes, they told me everything," she said, "They were reprogrammed or something. There was nothing Mike could do."

Nathan nodded, letting go of Mike and dusting him off.

"Sorry," he said, and gathered up his tools before heading back to his truck, coming back with another box. He looked at the animatronics with a pained expression before looking back at Arianna.

"I'm gonna need a couple days," he explained.

"Take 'em, can't exactly open without a band, know what I mean?" she replied. Nathan nodded, and walked over to Freddy, Bonnie, Chica, and Foxy. He pointed to Bonnie.

"You first, sweetheart," he said, and opened his toolbox.

* * *

_**A/N: Happy birthday to me! Also… I'M NOT DEAD! STOP SPREADING RUMORS I STARTED. **_

_**Anyway, super-extra-long chapter (with an epilogue to follow) to apologize for not updating in a while, hopefully I didn't lose too many readers. **_

_**I'm not super proud of Night Six, at least not as proud as I could be. I loved writing the Toys, and Phil, and the twist was something I felt was diabolically genius. But it was a weak night, and I feel like I sort of lost the charm of the other nights. Which is why I'm super excited for Night Seven, which if you weren't aware was the "Custom Night." More details will follow, along with checking in on a certain German Shepherd, dragon, and wolf-dog. I refuse to ignore characters I made (except for Caleb's mom. That bitch), and it'll be nice to write them again. **_

_**I'd blame life and all that, but actually I've been writing some non-fanfiction stuff, and kind of distracted myself from what was important. This. So… Thanks for your patience, and until next time, remember: It's only illegal if you get caught. **_

_**-DeltaV "I Need Bail Money"**_


	11. Epilogue

Epilogue: Picking up the Pieces

"…And just one more wire annnd…" Nathan said, screwing the mount into place, "Finally done!"

Nathan had spent the entire day working nonstop on Bonnie's face assembly, finally managing to get the damaged connections reattached to her endoskeleton's face, which had been spared of any major damage. As soon it was fixed, Bonnie moved every connection, checking every expression she knew how to make.

"Lookin' good, Bon," Nathan said, yawning. Foxy noticed.

"Ye should go home, bucko," he said, "Get some shu'eye." Nathan shook his head.

"Chica's arms still need to be attached, and I want to do a full check up on both you and Freddy," Nathan replied, and yawned again, "But I could use a nap." Foxy nodded.

"This way, mate, Mike se' up somethin' for ye," he said, standing in front of Pirate's Cove. Nathan stopped.

"In your Cove?" Nathan asked.

"Aye," Foxy replied simply, "Plen'y o' peace an quiet. I should know."

Nathan pushed open the curtains, revealing an illuminated lantern sitting next to a plain air mattress. Foxy brushed past the mechanic and sat on his chest onstage, looking at Nathan expectantly.

"I best be gettin' ta chargin', hate ta run ou' o' power again," Foxy said with a wink, and his yellow eyes dimmed. Nathan sank onto the mattress, and soon fell asleep.

* * *

Hours later, the chime that sounded at six am rang out, startling Nathan awake. Looking around, he saw that Foxy was already moving, heading outside into the Dining Area. Nathan followed, finding the others standing onstage. Chica looked at him.

"Not to be pushy but, I'd like my arms back on," she said. Nathan waved her over.

"Alright, come here. I'll take a look at your mouth too," he said.

"Sounds good," Chica replied, and carefully stepped off of the stage, crossing the Dining Hall to the work area Nathan had set up. The mechanic pulled Chica's right arm out of a box, and went to work attaching and replacing wires and motor lines.

A few minutes later, Arianna arrived, stopping in surprise upon seeing Nathan still working.

"You're still here?" she asked.

"Yep," came his flat reply, "Twist a bit to your right, Chica." The bird complied.

"Alright then. Keep me updated," Arianna said.

"Will do."

Freddy descended into the Dining Hall and began his usual practice of making minute adjustments to the room's layout. Nathan smirked.

"Just going right back to it, huh?" he asked. Freddy just grinned.

Onstage, Bonnie had gathered up paper and her collection of crayons from Backstage, carefully dropping down onto her stomach and beginning to draw, humming slightly to herself. For a while, the room was silent save for the occasional scrape of a chair, Bonnie's humming, the crinkle of paper, and the various noises that accompanied fixing a robot.

An hour and a half later, and Chica's right arm was fully reattached. She tested it out , swiveling it about in her shoulder and wiggling the digits.

"Works like a charm, Nate," she said. Nathan nodded, and his stomach growled. Chica looked at him.

"Was that you?" she asked, puzzled.

"Yeah. I'm hungry," he said. Chica grinned and headed for the Kitchen. "Hey!" Nathan said, "Get back here!"

"Twenty minutes, Nate," Chica said, waving her only arm dismissively. Nathan rolled his eyes and began tinkering with Chica's left arm.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Chica walked out balancing a pizza on her one hand, plopping it down on a table near where Nathan was working.

"If you're gonna fix me, do it with a full stomach," she said, and refused to let Nathan work until he ate several slices. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Happy?" he asked, "Get over here, you're still just right-handed." Chica chuckled.

The rest of the day was spent fixing Chica, and by the time midnight rolled around she looked almost exactly like before being damaged, arms and all.

"Thanks Nathan," she said, giving him a hug. The mechanic returned it gladly.

"Don't worry about it," he said, "It's what I'm here for."

The door at the entrance suddenly swung open, and Mike arrived for his shift, with Phil following him.

"Hey guys. Wow, looking good Chica," Mike said, "You do great work, Nathan."

Nathan chuckled from where he stood, wiping his hands on an oily rag, brushing his slightly shaggy hair off of his face.

"That's what I do," he said, "Who's your friend?" Phil crossed his arms.

"I thought I'd leave a bigger impression than that," he said, and Nathan recognized his voice.

"_Phil!?_" he said, "I heard you left town or something, after the lawsuits." He walked over and shook the ex-guard's hand, leaving a smudge of grease. "What happened to you?"

"It's, um, kind of a long story," he said, "But there are some friends of mine I'd, um, like you to meet. If you have time." Nathan frowned.

"What kind of friends?" he asked.

"Metallic," Mike replied, "And they need your help something fierce." Nathan sighed.

"I'll see what I can do," he answered, "I can't look for another few days, I'm still working on this lot."

Phil nodded in understanding.

"Of course. They're not going anywhere. I was going to stop by myself," he said, "Anyway, uh, Mike said I could stay here?" Bonnie called out from the stage.

"Of course you can!" she said, "There's lots of room!" Phil smiled, and turned to Nathan for instruction.

"Pirate's Cove," he said, "Say hi to Foxy for me. I'm gonna go home. See y'all tomorrow."

Without picking up his tools, Nathan walked out the front door, getting into his truck and driving off. Mike headed for the Security Office to set up for the night, while Phil went to Pirate's Cove to do much the same. He ran into Foxy just inside.

"Ahoy, lad," he welcomed, "Gettin' yer shu'eye?"

"Yeah, just for tonight until the police figure out what to do with me," Phil replied. Foxy nodded.

"Alrigh' then. I'll leave ye be."

Phil watched the pirate leave, and collapsed on the air mattress that was set up. He closed his eyes, and lost himself in the memory of a better time.

* * *

**1980**

"Marty, sweety, slow down," Florence Whitmore said, "We'll get there, don't worry."

"Yes grandma," Marty replied, stopping his sprint.

Florence was a kind, elderly woman, with a motherly plumpness and wrinkles that made her seem like she was always smiling. Her gray hair was short and curled, sitting atop her head like a cloud. Marty, her grandson, was spending the day with her, and she thought that a fun thing for lunch would be to visit the new restaurant that had opened only two weeks prior.

Marty himself was your average kid, all knees and elbows with a few missing teeth. At six years old, his blue eyes lit up with wonder at new things, and he would scratch at his short blonde hair whenever he was thinking about it. He had heard about this place at school from his friends, and good thing too, as there was a good chance that he never would have heard of it otherwise. No fanfare surrounded the opening of the business.

Stepping through the entrance, they were greeted with a large room filled with long tables, and a stage sitting in the corner. Hallways extended to other buildings, and children ran around everywhere. The smell of fresh pizza permeated everything, and the air was filled with happy music coming from the animatronic performers onstage. The grandmother and grandson went and sat at an empty table, a smiling employee pointing them towards the ordering counter.

"Go ahead and order and pay up front, then we'll bring your pizza out as soon as it's ready!" she had said, before moving on to help another patron. Florence nodded and grabbed Marty by the hand, leading him to stand in line next to her.

"What do you think, dear? Pepperoni?" she asked. Marty shook his head.

"Cheese!" he said. Florence nodded.

"Sounds tasty!"

As Florence ordered, Marty watched the robot band. It consisted of a brown bear, blue rabbit, and yellow bird. As he watched, the bird looked at him and smiled, waving. Marty waved back, awestruck, and watched as the robot went back to singing.

"Grandma! The robot waved!" he announced excitedly. Florence chuckled.

"I'm sure she did, dear," she said, leading him back to their table and placing a laminated piece of paper with their order number on a stand in the middle. She sat with a sigh of relief and pulled a book out of her purse. She turned to Marty.

"Why don't you go play over there?" she asked, pointing to the Game Area where children ran about. Marty nodded, and promptly went about exploring the restaurant.

One of the first places he visited (and the one that had the most children gathered around it) was the Show Stage, where the animatronics' show had just ended.

"Well boys and girls, that's the end of our show," the bear announced with a tinge of disappointment in his voice.

"That's right, Freddy, but don't worry, we have another one coming up real soon," the yellow bird added.

"That's great, Chica! I can't wait to play more songs!" the blue rabbit said. Chica laughed.

"Oh Bonnie, you always say that!" she said. Freddy laughed as well.

"Come on, gang, let's go see what's happening in the restaurant!" he said, and the animatronics did something Marty wasn't expecting: _they stepped off the stage._

Now Marty had not been anywhere that had animatronics before, but a part of him understood that it was truly bizarre to have them walking around. The robots were immediately swarmed, and Marty found himself being pushed out of the mass of kids.

Saddened by being excluded, he meandered over towards the Game Area, which had begun to clear out when word spread that Freddy and the others were offstage. By the time Marty arrived, it was him and a few other children riding on the carousel. Marty wasn't interested in riding, and instead sat down on one of several chairs (probably intended for parents) and started to people watch. In doing so, he didn't notice the figure loom up behind him.

"Hello!" a cheerful voice called out from over Marty's shoulder.

Marty whirled around, startled, and was face to face with another animatronic, this one human and not much taller than himself. It wore a striped shirt and a matching propeller beanie, and held a sign in his left hand reading "Balloons!"

"Sorry for scaring you!" the robot apologized, still happy, "Would you like a balloon?"

Marty nodded.

"Yay! What's your favorite color? Mine's all of them!" the robot said, extending a drawer built into his torso. Inside was a colorful array of balloons.

"Purple," Marty replied, and watched as the robot plucked a purple balloon from the drawer, closed it, and attached the limp rubber to his mouth. The sound of gas escaping sounded as the balloon inflated, looking like the robot was blowing a bubblegum bubble. The balloon reached a fairly large size, and the hissing stopped. The robot then took it out of his mouth and tied it off, adding a white string, then handed the toy to Marty.

"There you go!" the robot said.

"Thanks," Marty replied.

"You're welcome! Say, what's your name?" the robot asked, "Mine's Balloon Boy, but all my friends call me BB!"

"My name's Marty."

"Nice to meet you, Marty! I'm gonna go hand out more balloons! See ya later!" BB said, and wandered off in the direction of the most kids. Marty watched him leave, and looked up at the floating purple orb. It bobbed slightly, floating into the turbulence of an air conditioning vent. Marty continued to look around the restaurant, and spotted a door labeled "Kid's Cove." Figuring that it might be a sort of playground, he wandered over and peeked through the window.

Inside were a lot of small children and their parents, surrounded by colorful walls and a soft mat that sat on the tile. Standing in the corner reading from an oversized storybook was another animatronic, this one a white fox that appeared to be wearing makeup. Two of the children were at the robot's feet, tugging and pulling at the suit covering it, but the machine paid them no mind, focusing on entertaining them.

The story was soon finished, with the adults giving a polite applause while trying to get their little ones to clap too. The fox smiled and set the book aside before looking down expectantly at the two children tugging at her (it had to be female with the makeup) legs. The eye contact made them shy, and they backed away, allowing the robot room to move. It crossed over to the door, and after a short pause to plan its actions, opened it and stepped outside, hitting Marty with the door.

The robot snapped its head to the side when Marty cried out in surprise, and it quickly walked up to him.

"Oh my!" it said in a kind, motherly voice, "Are you okay?" Marty nodded.

"Yeah," he replied, "It just scared me."

"I'm sorry, I'll be more careful," the fox said, "What's your name?"

Introductions apparently happened constantly for these guys.

"I'm Marty," Marty answered, well-rehearsed.

"I'm Fiona Fox. Have you seen Balloon Boy around?" Fiona asked, head swiveling as she scanned the restaurant.

"That way," Marty said, pointing to where he caught a glimpse of BB's striped propeller beanie.

"Thank you!" Fiona said, and walked off in the indicated direction, soon gathering a following of children.

Marty continued to explore the restaurant, and came upon a long hallway that led to a smaller, much less fun looking room. Two men were inside, one wearing plain clothes and the other wearing a purplish uniform, and were, from the sound of it, having an argument.

"Sir, I assure you everything is very safe," the man in the uniform said. The other man didn't seem convinced.

"_Safe?_ How can you tell me things are safe when you have those machines running around?" the man asked. From the look on the uniformed man's face, this was not the first time that argument was used, but remained calm.

"Our animatronics are the most advanced of their kind, and have explicit programming to be as safe as possible around guests and staff. If you have further complaints, I ask that you take it up with my supervisor. I need to do my job," the uniformed man said finitely in a level voice, and turned back to a small screen.

The other man huffed, and stormed out down the hall, passing by Marty. Curious, Marty made his way down the hall too, noticing the drawings stuck to the walls, as well as posters. The man sitting at the desk stared at the device in his hands intently, and pulled a two-way radio off of his belt.

"Hey Phil, you're gonna get a complainer in the next fifteen," he said. The radio crackled.

"_Oh great,_" came Phil's reply, "_Thanks for the heads up, Jeremy. Hey, can I move you to the night shift? You'd get more hours._"

"Sure, I don't mind," Jeremy said, "Could always do with some peace and quiet."

"_Thanks. Glad I hired you,_" Phil said.

"Me too."

Jeremy set the radio on the desk and continued to stare intently at the device. Marty watched, fascinated, and then sneezed. Jeremy looked up, and gave a polite smile.

"Hey kid," he greeted, "Just wanderin' 'round?"

Marty nodded.

"Why don't you go back to your parents? Or go play," Jeremy suggested, "I doubt you want to watch me stare at the cameras for the next few hours."

Marty shrugged, but didn't say anything.

"Shy, eh? Well, if you want to stay, there's a chair in the corner if you-," Jeremy began, but the radio crackled again.

"_Jeremy, I need eyes on the Dining Area, someone just had a purse stolen, said he had a plaid shirt"_ a voice, not Phil's, ordered.

"On it," Jeremy replied, and scanned his eyes back and forth. He picked up the radio again, eyes glued to the screen.

"I think I got him. Plaid shirt, jeans, short brown hair. Kinda big," Jeremy described, and saw the other guard start moving his way.

"_I got him… Shit, he's running,_" the other guard said, and Jeremy was already out of his chair and sprinting down the hall.

The hall leading to the Security Office connected to the entrance, where the thief had to be headed. Marty watched as Jeremy emerged directly in front of the offender and tackled him, knocking the man to the floor. The other guard ran up several seconds later.

"Jeez, Jeremy, you use to be a cop?" the other guard asked. Jeremy shook his head.

"Nope, Army," he replied, and picked up the purse from where it had fallen, "I'm gonna go return this."

Marty followed Jeremy into the Dining Area, noticing that he limped on his left leg, which was strange since he didn't seem to be hurt from the tackle. The victim took the purse gratefully, to which Jeremy apologized that it had happened in the first place, then returned to the office. Marty watched him go.

"Marty!"

Marty suddenly heard his grandmother's voice. She was a few tables away, and he walked over, sitting across from her.

"Marty, there you are! Your pizza is here," she said, "Are you having fun?"

Marty nodded enthusiastically, and took a large bite out of his piece of pizza.

* * *

The next day, while Nathan did a full inspection of Freddy and Foxy, Phil returned o the abandoned Freddy Fazbear's. He had confessed everything the previous day, finally releasing all of the guilt and shame that had built up over the years. In exchange for his confession, his own trial was to be held after Gerald's, with consideration of the situation he was in taken into full account as well as deciding he did not need to be in a holding cell. Gerald's trial was set to take place in several days.

Out of respect for the victims and their families, it was decided very quickly that none of the hearings were to be made public, with the only information being that he was finally caught. Several other crimes, mainly of assault and kidnapping, were connected back to Gerald, and tacked on to his growing list of transgressions. The infamous Kid Killer was finally caught, for real, and that was all the justice system was willing to comment on the matter.

This was what was on Phil's mind as he stepped back into the restaurant. A sort of peace had settled over the place, the dark halls seeming somehow brighter and more welcoming. Wandering about, he spied the Toys onstage, frozen in a neutral position, Mangle lying in a heap in her corner, and Balloon Boy standing in the Game Area, a freshly inflated balloon grasped in his hand.

Squeaking wheels sounded behind Phil, and he whirled around, fearing one of the Toys might see him. Instead he was greeted by Marion, swinging slowly as his support system stopped, eyes glowing. Phil froze, not sure what was going on.

"Hello Phil," the puppet said, in a calm, comforting voice.

"Marion?" Phil asked, "But I thought you were-,"

"Just a puppet?" he asked, "I am, but puppets are controlled, correct?"

Phil frowned at the question.

"I guess so…"

"I want to congratulate you, Phil, for telling the world of what Gerald did to us," Marion said, lowering down to be on Phil's level.

"…_Us?_" Phil asked. Marion nodded.

"Us. You, the animatronics, me, the children. All those lives ruined from one man's evil," Marion said, voice just as calm.

"Well thank you, but…" Phil said, rubbing his head, "How are you… _talking?_ Moving? You don't have your own A.I."

Marion looked to the side for a moment, before the glowing pinpricks flicked back to face Phil.

"You remember what this place was like, before all of the tragedy?" Marion asked, "Full of laughter, happiness, wonder?"

Phil smiled at the memory.

"Yeah. Everything was so… _good_ then. The animatronics were happy, the children were having fun…" Phil trailed off, lost in the moment. Marion brought him back.

"I was there too. Watching. That's what I've always done," Marion said, "Watch."

"Watch what?"

"People. I had always been fascinated by people, and their lives, and emotions," Marion related, "I would always watch those I considered special, or unique."

Phil pondered Marion's words.

"Who are you?"

Marion was silent for a long time, before his optics blinked once.

"Do you believe in ghosts, Phil?"

* * *

_**A/N: Nice and short, with a little bit of mystery to spice things up. Thanks for joining me on this night, which ended up taking much longer than I anticipated. It was a heck of a ride, and didn't always hold up in parts, but now we move on to other things, like Night Seven. Details will be announced with the first story in that set, and a new Golden Years one-shot is in the works as well. Personally, I've always wondered how Chica learned to make pizza. That's right, it's a Chica episode! Sarcasm and dry humor await. **_

_**This series has progressed farther than I ever could have hoped for, so thank you all for taking this adventure with me. Stay tuned, more JANAF goodness is on the way!**_

_**-DeltaV "Flashbacks: Because just telling you what happened sucks."**_


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